Heaven's Gate: Moments in Time
by Cuddy Cabin
Summary: Faith and Bosco live out their retirement years with their children and grandchildren. What else could happen to our favorite couple? SERIES COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I am only going to do this once for this entire story. I don't own anything. Please don't sue. This story was born out of the end of ' A Little Piece of Heaven." It is a continuation of the lives of Bosco and Faith and their three children. I hope you all enjoy.

Heaven's Gate: Moments In Time

I sat down at my kitchen table today and started to make a scrapbook/journal of my life and Bosco's and the lives of our children, detailing times and places that we had been, moments that we could never visit again, except in our minds. Little pieces of paper, finely colored and shaped, made borders for the pictures of the family that I loved so much. Red, Blue, Green, Yellow: Stickers, glitter, cut-outs, all adorned the pages of my book, making an ordinary photograph seem extraordinary and brilliant. Newspaper clippings of my kids at baseball, school photos and mementos made up a wonderful memory book for all of us to enjoy. Scrap-booking had become a serious hobby of mine during my retirement years. I had never been one for crafts when I was younger but I had done a great deal of changing in my mannerisms and interests as I grew older. I was more mature, at ease. Definitely not the woman I was thirty or even forty years ago. Time had changed me, as it does to all of us. But when I looked in the mirror and saw my image staring back at me, I was pleased with what I saw, what I had overcome and become.

As I pasted pictures into my book I thought of my two eldest children who were no longer with me. How long it had been. How long, the days and years that had passed since I had seen their faces or heard their voices. If Emily and Charlie had still been alive, they would have been 42 and 37. It is hard to believe that I had Emily when I was eighteen years old, still a kid myself. I still longed to hold them in my arms, as I had for all those years after they died. They had been gone for 26 years and sometimes it still felt like yesterday to me. If I hadn't had Bosco, I know that I surely would have ended my own life. I thank God every day for him and the strength he gave me, and still gives me.

Our children have all grown up and it fills me with a kind of sadness to know that they no longer need their mother the way they used to. Mikey; who won't answer to anything but 'Mike', is now twenty-six years old and is a police officer at the same precinct that his father and I worked at for twenty-five years; the 55th. Brett is now twenty-four and teaching writing courses at Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts and Emma is twenty-two, married and the mother of my beautiful granddaughter, Emily Faith.

Faith is a year old now and I still can't believe that I am a grandmother. Bosco, on the other hand, took on his role as a grandfather as though he were born for that very day. From the moment that little Faith arrived, he was completely enamored by her every move. He delighted in every moment he got to spend with her and volunteered us to watch her anytime Emma and Rob had to go anywhere, be it the grocery store or the bank. Time had changed Bosco, too, and mellowed him to the point that I wondered if he was having a hearing problem by times. Don't get me wrong, he was still the same old Bosco in many ways, but the years had refined him and made him more confident and secure within himself and he was now less easy to anger and more likely to just let things go. After being married to him for twenty-eight years, nothing surprised me about him. It was amazing for me to still be in love with the same man after all of these years.

I sat down with the intention of putting every part of our lives down on paper where we could look and read about the times that were so precious to us and I knew that there would never be enough time or paper or pictures to fill up the glorious adventure that we call life.

My babies are on their own. I am almost finished here but before I go, I have much to say and so little time to tell it all, that I will continue to write about my life for as long as I can and hope that someday all of my children and grandchildren will sit down and read the words that came from me.

I know that my story is a long one, my years have blurred into one giant memoir that I keep close to my heart. This is a collection of places and events that I want to remember. They are the words of my life, of my love and they will always be a part of me.


	2. Coming Home

"Hey ma! I'm home!" I heard the deep voice of my third son call. Stamping of feet in the foyer reminded me of just how snowy of a day it was and also that he was not alone.

Instantly I was on my feet, from the floor of my bedroom where I had been wrapping up birthday presents for Bosco's surprise party that we were throwing for him the following evening. I shoved the gifts under the bed and threw the sizzors and tape into my craft basket and set them on my dresser, making a mental note to go back later and hide the gifts in another place so that Bosco wouldn't find them and ruin the surprise. That man was worse than a hound dog when it came to finding things he wasn't supposed to find. When it came to finding everyday simple things, however, like his wallet or his keys or making his dirty laundry _find _it's way into the hamper, he was absolutely infantile.

It was December 23, and Bosco's 57th birthday party was bringing all of my children under my roof again. I was elated by the fact that they would all be in our home for three days and four nights. Christmas day was always a great time for us, but even more so because Bosco had been born on Christmas Eve. This was the first year we had thrown him a surprise party and I was confident that he wouldn't find out about it. It had been a while since we were all together for Christmas. Last year, Brett had been invited to stay at another professor's house for the holidays and the year before that, Mikey had been to Florida with his partner's family. This was the first time that everyone would be together since Emma had little Faith. I was so happy to finally have a big family Christmas, just like we used to.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and ran my hands over my hair. Satisfied, if nothing else, with my appearance, I hurried out into the hall and down the stairs.

There he was, standing in the foyer, gentle layers of snow covering his heavy sheep-skin winter coat and his blond hair, even on the tip of his nose. He was so handsome, so classically beautiful and charming, he took my breath away to see all that he had become in his twenty-four years.

He had gone to Harvard at eighteen years old to become a writer. He had done so well at his courses that when he finished there was a job waiting for him at the University. He had been teaching writing courses now for two years. Even before he had graduated he was teaching part time. He was making more money at twenty-four than I made in one year as a police officer. We were so proud of him, of everything he had done, of the man he had become. He was suave and debonnaire, chased after by so many women, and yet, he declined dates and social gatherings where he knew he'd been asked for the purpose of being set up with some girl, to stay at home with a woman who he claimed was just his best friend and roommate. There was no way on this earth that they could keep me believing that they were just friends and this trip was going to be the big pay off. I wasn't letting him go until he told me just what was happening between he and Carly Davis.

She was the daughter of our best friends, Ty and Sasha. She and Brett had grown up together. They had been best friends as long as I could remember and when they both turned eighteen they had gone off to Boston to go to school. She to Boston Bay and he to Harvard. I thought that they would each find someone else to spend time with and get serious about, but that never happened. As many times as Sasha or Ty or Bosco would ask, they would always get the stock response. Just friends and nothing more. Who did they think they were fooling?

And here she was, standing beside him in our foyer. Her arm linked through his. How fresh and lovely she looked in her five foot six frame, wearing a matching sheep-skin coat that reached her ankles with a brightly colored knitted cap on her head and scarf thrown about her delicate neck, contrasting beautifully with the rich color of her skin. She was sensational looking, every man's dream, with her dark eyes and ivory teeth. She was Sasha all over again, but for her eyes. She had Ty's dazzling bright eyes that could make any man melt. She had been valedictorian at their high school graduation. She was now a fashion designer with her own small shop near Cambridge. It was small but she was doing very well.

I took the steps two at a time until I was at the bottom. Brett's handsome face lit up as he gathered me into his strong arms and swung me off of my feet. I held onto him, relishing the feel of him in my arms, the smell of his aftershave, the way he would always be my little boy, no matter how old he got. He looked a lot like I imagined Charlie would have looked like if he had lived. Brett had a lot of his father's features, but he looked mostly like my side of the family.

"Ma, you sure you look great!" He cried, as he set me down on my feet again. When he smiled, he reminded me so much of his father. His eyes shone with that blue brilliance that would light up even the darkest room

"Not bad for an old broad, huh?" I grinned as I reached for Carly and pulled her into my embrace and squeezed her tight. "How you doin baby girl?" I asked as I pulled the knit cap off of her head and ran my hand over her ebony hair.

"Oh, just wonderful, Faith!" She squealed, hugging me back equally as tight. "You do look wonderful. When are Emma and Rob coming? I can't wait to see little Faith!"

"They'll be here after dinner. Have you seen your parents yet?" I asked as I helped her out of the sleeves of her heavy coat. I held it while she pulled off her gloves.

"No. We just got in and came right here. So, do you need help with anything?" She answered lightly, turning around and hanging her coat up in the closet. I had the feeling that there was something going on and that she was trying to avoid my question.

That was unlike them. They always went to see Ty and Sasha first, so much so, that it had begun to bother me by times that we were always left till the last. Bosco always told me to pick my battles, so I had never mentioned to either of them how much it bothered me.

Brett had already taken off his boots and was on his way down our long hall toward the kitchen. I knew he could smell the cookies I had baked earlier in the afternoon. He stopped and surveyed the livingroom, his hands on his hips, a trait he inherited from me and let out a low whistle.

I had decorated this year as if the Queen of England were coming to spend the holidays with us. I had always loved the Christmas season, but this year I had felt a real need to make my home homeier and more cozy. We had a large living-room with a bay window that faced the side of our house. It looked out to the gazebo that Bosco had built for me a few years back. It was airy and bright, with long flowing white curtains hung on wrought iron hangers. We had a fire place on one end with a sectional couch against the back wall. A wonderfully warm throw rug laid in front of that fireplace and on more than one occasion, Bosco and I had laid down on it drinking wine and talking into the wee hours of the morning. Namely, after one such occasion, a few months later we had a daughter.

We had many wonderful times in that room. Game nights, movie nights, family discussions and making of crafts and school projects. It was the place where you could find almost any member of my family when they were home. Even throughout the years, the kids brought all of their friends home and they all hung out in that room. The secrets those four walls held, must have been many.

Our tree that year was almost six feet high. It was decorated with over twenty sets of lights. I had strung pop-corn and cranberries as well and it added to the splendor. I had kept almost all of the ornaments that the kids had made in church or school and had found a way to incorporate them into the tree or around the room.

Candles burned brightly, giving the room a peaceful quality. The lights on the tree made the presents beneath it sparkle, making the contents inside even more beguiling. I had ornaments of santa and his reindeer on an oak table that had been passed down to me from my grandmother. They were seated on a red table runner and took up almost the entire middle section of the table.

All around the room were small oak side tables that matched our huge square shaped coffee table that Bosco had made during one of his many 'new hobby fazes'. During the years, Bosco had taken over a dozen classes to keep himself busy. Cooking, wood, ceramics. He had done it all. The only thing we actually kept in the house were the end tables and furniture he had built, which were all very professional and very impressive. The cooking, wasn't exactly edible and the ceramics....well...just weren't anything that I wanted in my house. They were kept in his shop in the garage. Anyway, on the side tables I had put out small candy dishes filled with chocolates and cookies and different Christmas candy, all on pretty lace doilies and red napkins. I really got into the spirit of things.

"Wow, ma! It looks just great in here. Just like when we were kids. Remember that Christmas when Kitza knocked over the tree and ruined half of the ornaments?" He asked, looking back at me and giving me one of his sweetest smiles.

I came up beside him and poked him playfully in the ribs. "I remember _why _she knocked over the tree. You and your brother chased her into it, if I recall."

I laughed remembering the kitten that the boys had found at their bus stop one winter just before Christmas. It was freezing outside and they felt sorry for her and brought her home. At first, Bosco refused to let them keep her. He didn't want a pet. They put her outside in a cardboard box filled with blankets sat inside the door, crying and looking out at her. She had pressed her sweet little face against the side windows that ran parallel to the door and peered in at them, crying to be let in from the cold. Both boys had gone to bed crying and terribly upset that night, afraid that they would wake up and find her frozen to death in the morning. After putting two inconsolable boys to sleep, I had marched into our bedroom to find Bosco and give him a tuning, and I couldn't find him. It took me fifteen minutes to figure out that he was in the garage. I had pulled on my warmest sweater and made my way out into the shop, where I found him working on a toy train he had been making for the boys for Christmas, the kitten right beside him on the workbench, eating a dish of tuna and drinking milk. Oh, how it had made me love him even more, to see him petting that kitten and talking to it as if it were a baby. When he heard me come in, he had turned around with his familiar grin. "_Ya didn't think I would let a poor kitten freeze ta death, did ya?" _

He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed tightly. " I can't believe she's gone. Every time I come home I expect to see her sitting in her chair." He said solemnly. Kitza had been hit by a car almost three years ago, and it still made me want to cry every time I thought of our precious little pet.

I leaned against his shoulder, melancholy for a long moment. Suddenly, I realized that Carly wasn't beside us. "Where did Carly go?" I wondered aloud.

He leaned back and looked down the hall. "I dunno. Probably went to the bathroom." He shrugged off my question. "She's been kinda under the weather lately, the flu I think. She's ok.. Don't worry ma." He winked at me.

I took the opportunity to look at my son, really look at him. He seemed very happy and content but I knew, just knew that something was going on!

"So, what's up with you and Ms. Davis? Neither one of you found anyone yet?" I asked as casually as I could, trying to put my mother radar on low, so as to not give myself away. As _if_ they weren't together!

He groaned at my question and started off down the hall, with me close at his heals. "Ma, don't start! It's Christmas. Just leave it alone, please. And don't say anything embarrassing to Carly about it either." He lectured, his long legs making bigger and faster strides as he made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a cookie off of the cooling rack and stuffed it into his mouth. He leaned on the counter, savoring the buttery taste of the scotch cookies I had made.

" Brett Charles Boscorelli! Don't you think for one minute that I'm gonna give up this time!" I admonished, my hands on my hips. "We all know that something is........" I was interrupted by the sound of the back door slamming and Bosco rushing through to greet our son.

The years had been kind to my second husband. He was going to be fifty-seven years old tomorrow and he didn't look a day over forty. His hair had just started to become more gray than brownish blond. The lines in his face were deeper, but I thought that made him look more sexy.He was still the love of my life and my best friend, and true to form, he could still irritate me like an awful rash.

He wore a blue down filled ski jacket with a dark blue scarf and matching hat that brought out the color in his eyes. In his arms were brightly colored packages which he deposited carefully on the cherry wood table top.

"Oh we all know.....that's right! We all know that your mother needs to mind her business! That's what we know!" Bosco cried out, coming around the side of the table to give our second son a big hug.

"Dad!"

It made my heart soar to see my husband and son grab each other and hug like they hadn't seen one another in years. Bosco had never so much as gotten a hug from his father, or the man who he had been lead to believe was his father, in his whole life. We had found out when Rose was on her death bed that Anthony was not Bosco's biological father. The news had been devastating and explained a lot to both Bosco and to myself. But Rose had passed on before she could tell him who his father was. It was always a terrible heart ache for Bosco and he never talked about it much, but I could tell it was the main reason why he was so affectionate to our boys. He had never played the macho card around them. He was manly, but loving and I knew how hard it must have been, considering he never had an example to go by, but that's what made me love him more. He was the best father I could have ever imagined for my kids.

"Has she been at ya already?" Bosco joked, winking at me as he hugged his son close. I rolled my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my breasts.

Bosco broke the hug and started to take off his jacket.

"Ya. But I can forgive her because she made my favorite cookies." Brett quipped, turning around and holding his arms out to me. Eagerly, I went to his embrace. Goodness knows, I never got to see him enough.

"Man, it's cold out there! I thought my ass was gonna freeze off before I could get this stuff in from the car. You should see the doll that I got little Faith! It actually talks and wets itself!" My husband gushed, indicating the largest package of all.

I laughed. "Bos, she's only a year old! Don't you think she's a little young for that?" I asked.

He turned around and wagged his finger at me. "She's not too young, I'll have you know. She's smart, Faith and she'll know exactly what to do with a baby doll. Sides, it was the cutest doll in the whole store!"

I'd been told. There was nothing that you could say to Bosco when he had made up his mind. I didn't mind, though. I was just so happy to have all of my family home, or almost all of them. It was only gonna be a matter of hours before all of my kids were home. The party was planned and all set for tomorrow. How lucky we were, how fortunate to have been blessed with a family so fine and loving. I just hoped that all of our tomorrow's were as sweet.

TBC


	3. An Angry Voice

_**Heaven's Gate: Moments In Time**_

Birthday Wishes and Christmas Kisses

The morning of Bosco's fifty-seventh birthday arrived with a blast of freezing rain that made the icicles on the trees look glassy, like bright diamonds hanging precariously from their cold brown branches. All around our yard, the hardened snow glistened from being tormented by the stinging pellets. After the rain had stopped, however, and the sun peaked out from behind the clouds, everything sparkled and looked crisp and quite pleasing to the eye.

I had awakened early when I had heard the sweet morning cry of my precious Little Faith. I lay there for a moment listening to the sound of her babbling and various noises that children of that age made. I smiled as I thought about all of the time that we had to look forward to in the next few days. Time that would be spent with our family. All of us around the Christmas tree, opening gifts and laughing and catching up on old and new gossip.

I rolled over on my side and faced my second husband, who was peacefully sleeping on his back. Oh, how the years had flown by. The years since we had met each other at the Police Academy, the days and hours and minutes, like sand through the hour glass, had all flown by until we found ourselves in our retirement years. I thought about all of the times that Bosco had been by my side, encouraging me, helping me, loving me. I reached over and traced my finger tip across his beautifully shaped lips, teasingly. He didn't even flinch. He could sleep through a hurricane, while I could wake up to the sound of a pin drop on a cushioned carpet floor. Fifty-seven. My Bosco was fifty-seven years old today.

I had truly found a piece of heaven in his arms. Never before had I had such passion for a man, such love it made my heart both sing and then ache at the thought that someday I would have to live without him as I had to learn to live without Emily and Charlie. It had been a long road for the two of us, long but filled with the kind of love that takes years to develop. I didn't know how I had ever been so lucky to have found someone like him. What would I ever do when he was gone?

I pushed those dark thoughts away as I heard my name being called by Little Faith in the next room. I pushed back my covers and scooted out of bed and threw on my robe. After rearranging the covers over Bosco I quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door.

I opened the door to Emma's old room where she and Rob always stayed when they were home. After our granddaughter was born Bosco had taken on the task of redecorating the entire room to be a nursery for his 'other' princess. He wanted a place that would be suitable for both Little Faith and for Emma for when they came and stayed with us. The room was painted a light pink with a darker pink boarder. It was almost twice as large as Mikey and Brett's rooms were, but they had never minded that. The king-sized bed was made of cherry wood, with oversized posts that supported a white canopy of heavy lace. It had a matching pink comforter and throw pillows. The dressers were also cherry wood, dark and shiny, complete with silver frames on top displaying pictures of Emma and Little Faith when they were in their various stages of development. Everything had been redecorated to suit our daughter's tastes. Even the baby's crib had matching bedding along with a beautiful mobile of Noah's Ark hanging over the top. Emma had been completely excited when Bosco had showed it to her for the first time, the love and pride he had for her very obvious in his voice as he lead her around by the hand. He had also decorated the crib area with a small desk and chair set for Little Faith for when she was older.

I quicky stepped into the room and plucked my girl out of her crib and held her to me and kissed her cheeks. " You want to go downstairs with gramma and have some breakfast?" I cooed to her. She giggled and snuggled her warm body close to mine.

A princess she was, complete with her dark hair and sparkling eyes and sweet disposition. Very seldom did we see her in anything but a dress. I could tell that she was surely going to be like her mother, who at the age of three did not want to wear any clothes unless it was a dress and she always, always had to carry a purse. A very precocious child, she was only a year old and was already talking. Her hair had grown to the base of her neck and it was thicker than I'd ever seen on any other baby. She'd laugh and clap her plump little hands together and say ' gapa' over and over again. It was her name for Bosco. She spent a great deal of time with Bosco and myself, as Emma and Rob were both working full time and trying to find time for each other. We loved having her close to us where we could spend full days and evenings with our granddaughter. It also was a blessing because it meant that we got to see our daughter on a regular basis.

Emma and Rob and Little Faith had arrived about one a.m. They had been to visit Rob's parents and had ended up staying later than expected when Rob's little sister, Angi, had surprised them with a visit. Angi had been in Somalia with her boyfriend for the last six months and hadn't told anyone that they were coming home. From the few minutes that I had spoken to them I got the impression that the visit had gone well.

As I started out of the room, a sleepy voice came from underneath the covers of the pink duvet.

" Thanks for getting her mom."

" You're welcome honey. You just rest and Little Faith and I will go have some breakfast...won't we? Yes we will." I said and made some funny faces at my granddaughter. She giggled and reached up and grabbed a fist full of hair in her hands. I shut the door and proceeded downstairs.

I was almost to the kitchen when I heard Brett talking rather loudly. He was angry and there was no mistaking the tone of voice he used.

" I'm not saying that! Don't put words in my mouth! What else do you expect?" Came his cross voice. Oh, he sounded like me when he was angry; his voice tight and wound, as if he would come apart if he had to say another word.

Silence. I guessed he was using the phone. I started closer, but walked as quietly as I could. I wondered if this had anything to do with Carly.and the secret relationship that I knew they shared. There hadn't seemed to be anything wrong between them when they were here together the night before, but I knew that both of them were very private people and they probably wouldn't have said anything to me anyway.

" What do you want me to tell them then?" He asked in a tired, defeated way. I peaked around the corner and caught a glimpse of my third son leaning over the kitchen sink, his free hand running through his short blond hair. He was standing there in nothing but his boxer shorts, his hard body muscled and sculpted. He didn't even work out and he was still stunning. That had always made Mikey a little cross, for Mikey had to work out every day to attain the body he had.

He seemed to listen for an eternity, bowing his head and cradling it in the palm of his large hand. He shook his head slowly back and forth, as if to deny what he was hearing.

" Alright then, I won't tell them, but they're my parents and they love you. What would they think if they knew..."

He was about to say whatever it was that they were fighting over and right at that very moment, fate swooped in decided to make me sneeze. It was loud and harsh and there was no way to disguise it. Little Faith laughed loudly. I stepped into the kitchen, knowing that I was discovered and casually walked over to the high-chair.

Brett turned around quicky, his eyes widened with shock and surprise at my sudden entry. A glimmer of fear passed through his features before he hurriedly told whoever was on the phone that he'd call them later.

He set the cordless down on the counter top and crossed his arms over his shapely chest, his blue eyes ablaze. " Mom! Were you trying to listen in on my conversation? Havn't you learned by now?" He snapped angrily. It was the harshest tone he had ever taken with me.

Hurt by his tone, I set the baby in the high-chair, my back to him. I didn't want him to see my eyes betray my mouth. " No. I was coming down here to give the baby her breakfast. I didn't know you were in here until I saw you Brett." I said softly.

Instantly he was sorry. I turned around and looked at him, fear growing in the pit of my stomach, wondering what he was so upset about. I still worried about my son and I couldn't help myself.

" I'm sorry, mom. I shouldn't have snapped at you like I did..." His voice trailed off, obviously wanting to say more, needing to say more but didn't know where to begin.

I walked over to him and gave him a hug. " It's ok baby. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

He smiled at me in a tight amused way and shook his head. " You never stop wanting to know every detail of my life do you"? And before I could answer he put his hand up. " It's ok. I don't blame you for it. But this is something I have to get through by myself". He said softly, pointedly. I stood there and stared at him. " Ok. Just remember that I'm always here for you if you need me."

He kissed me briefly on the cheek and started towards Little Faith, whom he hadn't seen since she was born. He scooped her up from her high-chair and lavished kisses on her small cheeks. He held her to him and squeezed tightly. " How's my baby girl? Did you miss your Uncle Brett?" He cooed at her.

I busied myself by putting on a pot of coffee and mixing the baby cereal for Little Faith. I couldn't help but wonder what turn of events would lead me into knowing the truth about what was going on with my third son. He wasn't going to talk about it no matter what I said, so like the fool I often was, I decided that he would tell me in his own time, not realizing that sooner or later I'd wish that I had never inquired at all.


	4. Happy Birthday

**Happy Birthday**

We finally made it through the day without Bosco finding out about the surprise dinner we were having for him at Haggerty's. Usually on Christmas Eve we stayed home and had a light supper and then headed off to church but this year we wanted to do something special for him and had invited everyone that we used to work with at the 55th. Haggerty's was a restaurant and pub that we frequented all of the years that we were on the force. It had great food and the best bar snacks in town and it brought back only happy memories for us. It seemed fitting for Bosco's fifty-seventh birthday to be spent with people that meant so much to us.

Everyone was going to be there; Lieu Swersky, Sully, Brendan Finney, and of course, Ty and Sasha. Mikey and his partner were had promised to be there even if it was only for a while. They both had the Christmas Eve shift because neither of them had children or were married and it would give other officers time with their own families. It gave me great pleasure to know that everyone had taken time out of their usual Christmas Eve routine's to have dinner with us. It meant a lot to me and I knew that it would touch Bosco to know how much everyone still cared for him.

The only hard part about our little ruse was getting Bosco to the restaurant without catching on that something was up. As soon as he had woken up that morning I knew he was planning on snooping around and generally making a nuisance of himself for the better part of the day. I had come into the bedroom to put away some clean clothes and found him on his hands and knees peering under the bed. Of course, he pretended that he was really looking for something and tried to cover it as best he could, but I wasn't born yesterday.

'What are you looking for?' I asked, trying to contain the laughter that was building. 'And by the way, Mr. Boscorelli, cute tushie'.

He backed himself up as fast as he could, obviously not wanting me to know that he was snooping. He stood up and looked up at the ceiling, as if looking for an answer that I'd actually believe then he glanced down at his wrist.

'Nothin. I thought I left my watch under there somewhere...so I thought I'd better check...'

I rolled my eyes as I proceeded to put away our clothes. I opened a drawer and deposited our clean socks and underwear neatly. "Yes. I had a feeling that it had fallen off of your wrist and crawled under the bed.'

'Ya...well...it could happen Faith.' he said with his classic grin. 'And besides, it's my birthday. You can't be mad at the birthday boy.' he said in a sing-song voice, as he came up beside me and wrapped his arms around my waste. He kissed my neck and squeezed me tight. "Do you have anything special for me on this most glorious day that I should know about?'

I giggled and turned around to face the man I loved and leaned in and gave him a big kiss. 'You aren't getting any information from me so don't even think about it...but I do have something for you for _later_.' I said, lowering my voice so it purred suggestively.

He raised his eyebrows and watched me as I walked over to the closet and pulled out a new black Victoria's Secret nightie and held it before me. I was still proud of the body I had and even in my fifties I still looked forty and was darn proud of it and his face told me that he was very pleased.

'Do I get a sneak peak?' he asked, his voice husky.

'Nah. Not until tonight.' I said winking at him. I put it back in the closet and shut the door. 'And don't try to find whatever you think it is that we're hiding for you. You won't find anything.' I said sweetly.

'You can't outsmart the master Faith. Ya can't do it.' He said confidently shaking his head. He swatted my bottom as I walked past him to go back down stairs. 'I'll find out...don't you worry. I'll find out'. He muttered and followed it with an evil little laugh. He had watched 'Austin Powers' way too many times for my liking.

He always managed to find out part of whatever we had planned and prided himself in the fact that he could always outsmart us, giving me his triumphant grin he would tell me that he missed his calling; he should have been a detective. He never let on to the kids that he had figured out what they were planning, for that would have been hurtful, but he always, always let me know just how darn smart he was. But not this year.

For one thing, we had decided to order pizza at lunch time and give him his gifts early so that he thought that was the birthday celebration. Emma and Rob had got up about ten and decided to ask Bosco if he'd like to go shopping for an hour or so to give me time to order the pizza and set the table and to generally get him out of our hair. About ten-thirty Rob, Bosco and Brett hopped into Rob's Explorer and drove down our long circular drive, Bosco looking out the window and nodding his head, as if he had figured it all out and was just humoring us.

'Daddy looks great mom, even if he is fifty-seven, doesn't he?' Emma said as we watched them drive away.

'Huh?' I said. I was thinking about Brett and his conversation with whom I could only presume had been Carly earlier that morning. What was going on?

'I said daddy looks great. You ok mom?' she asked, throwing one of her arms around me and resting her head on my shoulder.

'Yes. I'm fine. I was just thinking about the party later. Did you hear from Mikey today? Is he bringing Kath?' I asked as we made our way back to the kitchen. Mikey had fallen in love with his, then, partner, Kathleen Kelly, whom he had met the first day at the Academy and they had been dating for quite a while. They had both paired up with new partners a few months ago because they both felt that it wasn't good for the job or for their relationship to be together at work as well as off duty. But recently, there had been trouble, which no one would talk openly to me about, and as far as I knew, they were considering splitting up. I was very distraught over the situation. I loved Kath. She was the best thing that had ever happened to my son, as far as I was concerned. It was no secret that Mikey liked the ladies and had been quite wild in his exploits, but that was only until he had met her. She had tamed him, and brought out the best in him and I was very sorry to see it coming to an end.

There were many times that Kath had come to our house and had tea with me or worked on scrap booking with me. I had longed for her to open up to me but she never talked about what was wrong between them. Mikey still talked to his father about his relationships but not to me. It hurt that he would keep me out of that part of his life but I didn't make an issue out of it. After all, Brett talked to me more than he did to Bosco, so it was kind of a trade off.

'Yes. He called when you were in the shower. He's coming over for the pizza and he said he'd try to stop by for an hour or so to Haggerty's but...' she trailed off, obviously deciding if she would say any more.

'What is it?' I asked, stopping in mid walk.

She raised her slender hand to her mouth and chewed one of her finger nails. Clearly she was apprehensive about telling me what she knew. She and Mikey were very close and had dinner together every week or so. She knew plenty about what was going on.

'Well, I just thought you should know that he broke up with Kath and I don't think she's gonna come tonight.' she said sadly. She winced as she looked at me, hoping to not upset me, her deep blue eyes reflecting my own feelings on the situation. She, too, loved Kath and thought of her as a sister.

'Ohhhhh.' I breathed, not sure what to say. I felt tears spring to my eyes and I brushed them away quicky.

'Mom, you know as well as I do that Mike isn't the kind of guy to settle down with just one woman. He needs...variety.' Emma said, stressing the word 'variety'. It seemed to me that she was as displeased with Mikey as I was and just as hurt over his breakup. But my son was old enough to decide for himself and I knew that he would resent my interfering.

A cry from upstairs brought me back to the present. Emma rubbed my arm tenderly. 'Don't worry mom. He'll settle down one of these days.'

She looked toward the stairs. 'I better go get her. But I'll be right down to help you arrange everything, ok?' She smiled and chucked me under the chin, the way I used to do to her when she was small. I nodded and gave her a quick grin.

I watched my daughter walk up the stairs to get her daughter and shook my head. She had always been the little mother, even when she was young. She was usually the first one to give comfort or a big hug or words of encouragement when someone was upset. She had grown into a wonderful young woman and I was very proud of her.

I walked back to the kitchen and proceeded to order the pizza for our lunch celebration. How quicky life changes, I thought to myself as I carefully set the table. In seconds, my children grew up before my eyes and left to make their way in the world. How fast it had become clear to me that I would not always be included in the bitter details of their personal lives. Not only was Brett having a hard time and was keeping secrets from me, but now Mikey had thrown away the best relationship he had ever had.

Why was it that men had this lust for all kinds of women embedded deep inside them? Was there ever a man made who didn't want to have many conquests? Even Bosco had played around for years, taking one woman home after another, trying to fill a void that he thought existed. Why did men find it so hard to commit? But Bosco _did_ commit and he _did _settle down into family life. Would the same be true for my second son?

All of these questions loomed in the darkest corners of my mind as I finished getting everything ready for my husband's party.

The dinner celebration was wonderful. Bosco acted like he was surprised, but I knew he had got something out of either Brett or Rob on the shopping trip. He was incessant and could drive even the craziest person crazy with his constant questions and badgering about what they had planned, but when we all sat down together at the table, with Little Faith sitting on her gapa's lap, it made my heart soar to see him so happy.

Brett had invited Carly over to have the meal with us. There was no difference in the way that they spoke to each other or looked at one another and I began to wonder if he had even been talking to her on the phone earlier. But, who else would he be talking to that he would say 'my parents love you'? I watched them as closely as I could without drawing attention to myself but I couldn't see anything wrong. Maybe they had gotten over it?

Mikey had shown up a half an hour late. He came strolling in the house with his familiar confident stride, without apologizing for his lateness. He looked like he had run all the way. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans but his hair was messy and his face was flushed.

A very handsome man, was my second son and very, very secure with his masculinity. His dark hair and beautiful eyes were his best traits. He was tall and lean and was very proud of his muscled body. He worked out at the police gym all the time and he was very well put together, which was something he never failed to let everyone know. He had inherited Bosco's temper and his face. Almost an exact duplicate of his father, except he was over six feet tall. Mikey had nothing of me in him as far as I could tell. He talked like his father, walked like his father and had a way of complaining that made me swear Bosco had crawled in there and was directing his every word. It annoyed me that he would show up late to the party. He knew what time it was and he should have been there when I told him to be, but I bit my lip and closed my lips for fear that I would say something to him about Kath.

'Look at you dad!' his loud voice boomed as he made his way around the table to give his father a hug.

'Still lookin good for an old guy! Maybe you'll have to tell me your secret cause if I look as good as you do when I'm your age I'll be havin no trouble pickin up!' he half shouted.

I rolled my eyes. That boy would never know the joy of having someone to love as long as he played around. No one said a word. By now, we all knew about the breakup and were all very saddened by it.

'Maybe you should stop taking like a _playa _and come over here and give your little sis a hug' Emma piped up.

Obligingly, he came around to her side and hugged her close, then leaned down to kiss Little Faith on the cheek. Next he gave Brett a manly squeeze and bent down to kiss Carly on the cheek, and last, came over to me. He looked like he expected me to chastise him for being late or maybe he figured out that I knew what had happened with him and Kath, but either way, he flashed his grin at me and winked.

'Hi ma. Sorry I'm late. I got...well...a little tied up.' he quipped as he gathered me in his strong arms. I felt my resolve slipping away as I hugged him back.

'It's ok baby. You're here now and that's all that matters.' I said lovingly. There was so much more going on than I knew about, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

The afternoon was filled with lots of laugher and chatting. We all moved into the livingroom and put our presents under the tree and had hot chocolate. We talked about the years gone by and things that we had done together as a family. No matter what was going on in all of the lives of my children, nothing could compare with us all being together as a family.

We had decided that everyone would make up fake plans to go somewhere and then we'd all meet at Haggerty's about six. I would talk Bosco into getting something to eat at the old place and then we'd surprise him.

After Emma and Rob had left, Mikey had to go to work and Brett and Carly decided to go visit Sasha and Ty. Carly and Brett really did have a legimate excuse for leaving. Carly's brother, Tyrone and his girlfriend Tania and their son, Elijah were visiting and Carly hadn't seen them for quite a while.

I walked upstairs to go get something from the washroom when I heard someone vomiting from behind the closed door. I knew it was Carly and knocked on the door. 'Carly? Are you ok in there?'

'Ya. I'm fine Faith. I'll be right out.' she called weakly, I thought.

A few seconds later she emerged, her face looking pale. 'Must have been something I ate. I'll see you later.' She said and quickly ran down stairs to meet Brett.

Almost as if she wanted to flee from me and my questions, she ran out the front door and slammed it shut. The echo leaving me in silence.

I went into my room and laid down on the bed for a short rest. There would be time later to find out just what mysteries were lurking around, but for now, I snuggled against Bosco's warm sleeping body and hoped that everything would work out fine.


	5. Haggerty's

I had no problem getting Bosco to Haggerty's by party time. In fact, he totally bought my not wanting to cook excuse and said it would be a great idea to go out, just the two of us. The whole ride there I filled his head with my worry about our boys, about the secrets I felt were lurking around the corner, just waiting to be discovered. Partly, I was talking just to keep his mind off of the restaurant and the other reason was because I really did want to tell him what had transpired between Brett and Carly on the telephone earlier in the day.

Bosco, unlike me, was not very worried about a fight between Brett and Carly, nor was he worried about Mikey and Kath. He preferred to stay out of their fights and arguments, while I did my best to try and figure out what was going on. Sometime's his lack of feeling about those things bothered me. Why wouldn't he want to know? Why wouldn't he try and help work it out? Every time I would ask him he would simply raise his eyebrows at me and say 'Faith. Let them have _their_ business.'

I think my incessant chatter really was the finishing touch on the ride to the party, because by the time we parked our Mustang, Bosco was more than irritated by my bombarding him with questions as to why he wouldn't try and help me figure out what was going on with Brett and Carly, especially.

'Faith, just leave it alone would ya? You're like a hen in a henhouse that won't shut up. Cluck, cluck, cluck.' he said in an exasperated tone. He flapped his arms out like a hen and made a stupid face at me.

I punched him in the shoulder and gave him a vicious look. 'Ya? Well, it seems that _I _am the only one interested in getting to the bottom of this.' I snapped at him. I really was starting to get annoyed by his easy attitude.

We walked slowly toward the front of the restaurant, me hoping that everyone was in place and ready to shout as we walked in the door. Bosco grabbed my gloved hand in his as we walked along.

'Faith, let's not argue on Christmas Eve. I just think that you should really let them work things out between themselves. They don't need any help. ' he said softly, diplomatically, as he searched my face for any hint of a smile.

I nodded my head, thinking that I had done a wonderful job of concealing the party from him. He stopped walking and leaned in and gave me a big kiss. "I love you, Faith. Thank you for another wonderful birthday.'

'I love you too, babe.' I said as I opened the door. 'Go ahead, birthday boy.'

He walked in front of me and as soon as he stepped inside the crowd jumped out from behind the bar and yelled 'SURPRISE', at the top of their lungs.

Everyone we had invited was there. Our old Lieutenant Swersky, even though he was quite along in years, was their with his wife, Louise. Ty and Sasha and Carly and Tyrone stood along the side of the bar with Brett, Emma, Rob and Little Faith. Brendan Finney and his wife Grace were there as well as Sully and his companion, Stella. Everyone had huge smiles on their faces and held gifts and cards in their hands.

Lou, the owner of the bar, had strung streamers of all colors from the rafters of the huge room, along with a huge banner that read, 'Happy Birthday Maurice'. The room looked a little funny, I had to admit because it was also decorated for Christmas as well. Lou had let us rent the bar from six to ten, because no one really went there for Christmas Eve anyway. We had known him a long time. In the back, closer to the kitchen, stood his wife, Eve and son, Maxwell. They smiled and waved.

Bosco's mouth dropped open in shock and pleasure. He turned back to me and grabbed my hand.

'You did this?" He asked with incredulity in his voice.

'Ya. Happy Birthday Bosco. I love you.' I said and hugged him close to me.

People came up to him and hugged him and teased him about his age. It was a great party. Lou and Eve had prepared some of Haggerty's best bar snacks, along with fried mozza sticks, fried potato skins, buffalo wings and veggie's and dip. He also supplied huge platters of mushroom caps and stuffed crab rangoon, which was one of our favorite things to eat. And of course, there was beer and shots for whoever wanted them.

Bosco sat at the head table that Lou had prepared with Little Faith on his lap. He fed her bits of cake and icecream. Ty was on his left, Emma at his right. Brett and Carly were at the end of the table talking rather quietly. Sasha came up and threaded her arm through mine.

'This is a great party, Fay. It couldn't have turned out better.' She complimented me.

The years had been kind to my best friend. She was no more than five-five, and still kept her ebony hair fairly short, which accentuated her beautiful face and high cheek bones. She had wonderful dark eyes, soft and dreamy looking. She was still as lovely as she had been twenty-five years ago.

She and Ty had both stood up for us at our wedding. They hadn't been together at the time. They had gone through a terrible breakup because Sasha had gone through with an abortion. Only Bosco and I knew about it and as far as we knew, they had never told any of their children. When Sasha had told Ty that she wasn't ready for a family, it broke his heart and he immediately moved out of their new apartment. She, too, was heart-broken and realized just what she had lost. It seemed too late for a reconciliation but as the preparations for our wedding increased, she and Ty had to spend a lot of time together and eventually ended up back together and then, married. Our children had grown up together, played together from the time they had been babies and they were all quite close. Tyrone and Mikey were the same age and they were still best friends. Our two families, who were more like one by times, vacationed together, went out to eat together and had bbq's all summer long. I never imagined that we would have such dear friends.

Everyone was having a wonderful time, catching up on new and old times. Glasses clinked, food was consumed, chatter was loud and lively. I almost forgot that Mikey hadn't showed up until I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nearly nine. He should have been here by now, I thought to myself.

I glanced toward the door, thoughtfully, wondering where he was. I looked back around the crowded room and settled my eyes and my third son and Carly Davis. They were chatting at the table, but they seemed to be doing it only for appearances sake. She looked rather glum, I thought and he looked like he had something on my mind. I turned back to my best friend.

'Sash, do you know what's going on with Brett and Carly?' I asked in a low voice. I didn't want anyone to over-hear me and think that I was nosey.

She raised her eyes at me. 'You think something is going on too?' she whispered. 'Here, come to the bathroom with me.' she said and grabbed on to my arm.

We walked to the back of the room and ducked into the woman's washroom. Sasha looked under the three stalls that were along the back of the room, checking to make sure no one else was in there. Satisfied that no one was, she leaned back on the sink and crossed her arms over her breasts.

'When she got home last night, she seemed really tired and wanted to go to bed immediately, so I didn't think much of it, but in the middle of the night, I got up to get a drink of water and I heard her throwing up in the bathroom.' she confided.

I nodded my head. 'She threw up before she left for your house this afternoon too. Sash, do you think she's pregnant?' I asked.

She shook her head and bit down on her lower lip. ' I don't know...maybe...but she's never said anything to me about having a relationship...not even with Brett. They've been living together for years, never gone out with anyone else and I just thought that we'd of heard something by now. I mean, I thought that something was between them all these years, but neither of them will admit to anything.' She said, sadly.

My eyes widened at the way she described the two of them, for it was the same way I felt about the situation. This was defianetly a strange relationship. 'I know! It's like they don't want us to know anything about them...don't you find that really...' I searched for the words to describe how I was feeling.

'Weird?"

'Yes! Weird.' I mumbled.

'I keep asking Ty to try and get it out of her, but he tells me to mind my own business.' She said with a hint of annoyance. 'That man tells _me _to _mind my business _when Carly is _my_ own daughter!'

I grinned at her, really amused. 'I know, Bosco tells me the same thing every time I bring it up.' I straitened up and crossed my arms over my chest and threw my head back and imitated his deep voice.

'I think ya should mind ya business...ya sound like a hen in a hen-house...cluck, cluck..'

Sasha laughed and grabbed onto my arm to keep from falling over. 'Oh Faith! You sound just like him. Don't let him hear you say that!'

'Let's make a pact Sasha. This Christmas we won't let our kids leave until we have the answers we're looking for.' I said solemnly, holding out my hand for her to shake.

She narrowed her dark eyes and grabbed on and shook hard. 'Deal. Now let's go see what we can find, girl.'

I loved my best friend. I could count on her for anything. Laughing, we exited the washroom and headed back to the party.

It was almost nine-thirty by the time we grabbed a couple of beers and sat down at the table with our husbands. Bosco and Ty were both on the verge of being pretty drunk, both having consumed about six beer to our one. They laughed and roared at Brendan Finney's account about the things that went on at work. He still had a few years to go to retirement. Both Bosco and I had been at the job for ten years before he had even shown up. But he looked fit and happy and was still quite handsome for his age. Lieu had left early with his wife. He was almost eighty years old now, but still full of fire. It had been great to see him again.

I remembered the day of my wedding when Lieu had walked me down the isle. He had kissed me on the cheek before he went to sit down. I would forever be grateful for him replacing my father on that day. I remembered how pleased he had looked when I asked him for that favor. He had accepted immediately and told me that I deserved happiness.

As we sat around eating pieces of Bosco's chocolate birthday cake my eyes again wandered to the door. Where was Mikey anyway? As if to answer my question, the door opened and he walked in. He held the door open and I felt my heart thump in anticipation that he may have made up with Kath and had brought her with him.

Seconds later, a tall brunette walked in and took his arm. She was perhaps five foot nine or ten with long dark hair and stunning green eyes that I could see even from my seat of ten feet away. She was dressed in a long dark dressy coat with matching high-heel black boots. Her face was made up to perfection, suggesting that she may have been a model. Mikey took her coat from her shoulders and carefully hung it up on the coat rack behind him. He was in uniform, but undid his jacket and hung it next to hers. From the way he acted, I could tell that this was probably the reason for him breaking up with Kath. I watched them, my stomach feeling like I had a huge chunk of ice buried deep inside. How could he bring someone else to his father's party? He had just broken up with Kath! We didn't know her. This wasn't a place to bring a new woman to for the first time, my mind screamed. I felt like he had betrayed Kath and I felt guilty that this new woman was even here with my family.

She was dressed in a long wool skirt with a charcoal gray turtle neck. She did look stunning with her dark, shiny hair and extremely bright eyes. As they walked toward us, I felt the skin on the back of my neck stand up. There was something familiar about her but I couldn't tell what it was. It was as if I had seen her before but I couldn't place her.

If she felt out of place about being introduced to Mikey's family on Christmas Eve at a party for his father, she didn't show it. Rather, she seemed to feed off of the attention of everyone staring at her. She smiled at everyone, with the expertise of a woman who got lots of attention. Even Carly hesitated between fork-fulls of cake to watch this ravenous beauty that was here with my son. All conversation stopped as they approached the table.

'Happy birthday dad!' Mikey said excitedly. Bosco and Ty both stopped, drinks mid-way to their mouths, to look at this creature before them. Sasha elbowed her husband, annoyed by his obvious gawking.

'This is Carmelle Sambrooke, everyone.' He said, the pride evident in his voice as he squeezed her around the waist. He looked like an excited school boy who had brought the best show and tell in to the class. He smiled at her, the lust and possessiveness he felt very evident. I was almost embarrassed by the way he looked at her, with such passion. And I knew that kind of passion and I had only felt it with one man. His father.

'Hello everyone.' She said in a strong clear voice. She was not the kind of woman to be intimidated by new people as I often was. She smiled at all of us, winningly, charmingly.

Bosco hesitated, then set his beer on the table. 'Well, hello there young lady. Welcome to our celebration.' he said in a silly voice. Clearly, he was as taken with her as every other man in the place was.

Ty picked up the thread. 'Yes, Ms. Sambrooke, please take a seat.' He stood up and bowed cordially toward her. Sasha rolled her eyes. ' Ty. You better get something else in your stomach besides that beer, you hear me?"

They both sat down and had a piece of cake. Mikey introduced her to all of us and pretty soon she was chatting up a storm with Carly and Brett. Only Sasha and I remained silent.

They didn't stay long, however, because Mikey had to get back to work. When they left, things started to die down and before long we found the party coming to an end.

As Bosco and I drove up our driveway, he leaned over and nuzzled my neck. 'So, am I gonna get to see you in that new thing you bought?'

'Sure baby.' I said, pulling in to our parking spot by the garage. 'Bosco..." I started.

He put his finger over my lips. 'Not tonight. Let's go inside.' He said.

I knew he was right. This was his night and he didn't want to spoil it with questions that neither one of us could answer.

He lead me upstairs to our room and even as he began his lovemaking, my mind had a thousand questions running through it.

Why was this Carmelle so familiar to me and why was it that I felt that our lives were about to change for the worse?

I forced myself back to the present and surrendered myself to my husband and my own desires, as I had done so many nights before.


	6. Surprises All Around

Christmas morning we were all up early even though we had been up quite late...or at least my husband and I were.

For once, Bosco was up before me, excited as a little child would be, pulling off the covers and telling me to 'hurry, hurry'!

I rolled over and stuck my head under my pillow. I was tired and I wanted a few more minutes sleep. I had stayed up most of the night thinking about Carmelle Sambrooke and her sudden appearance into our lives. There was something about her that was too familiar. She looked like someone I had seen before. I decided that I would talk to Mikey about it if I could get him alone at some point. I knew that it would be tough, considering that the house was going to be full of people all day. Ty and Sasha and Carly and Tyrone and his girlfriend and their son, Elijah were all coming over for brunch. I needed to talk to Sasha. That's what I needed to do.

I was also thinking about Brett and Carly and just what was going on between them. I only had one more day to get the truth from Brett and I didn't know how to do it. If Sasha could only get Carly to tell her what was going on, I thought, then maybe we wouldn't have to dig it out of Brett.

Bosco's urgent voice brought me out of my reverie. 'Faith, come on! Let's get downstairs and get the coffee on and wait for everyone else to get up!'

I groaned. 'Bosco! Let me just sleep for a few more minutes. You tired me out last night you know.'

He jumped on the bed, pulled the pillow away from me, and kissed my face, my eyes and then my neck. 'You know what you do to me when you wear those things, besides I wasn't the only one who tired you out. It was your brain as well.' he said in all seriousness.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. 'What do you mean, my brain?'

'You stayed up half the night just scheming a way to find out about Brett and Carly and you probably spent some time wondering about Mike's new woman, too, didn't ya?' He admonished, waging a finger at me.

I opened my mouth to dispute what he had said but he cut me off before I could speak.

'Faith, I know you. How long have we known each other?'

'Thirty-seven years.'

He nodded his head. 'Yep. Thirty-seven years. And you know what?"

'What?'

'I can read you like a book, my dear wife, and I know how you 'get'.' He put stress on the word 'get'.

I struggled to sit up and he moved over to his own side of the bed to let me do so. Now in a sitting position, I looked over at him, slightly annoyed that he could read me so well. 'How I get?'

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips together. 'Faith, you always try and solve everything. You can't let Mike make his own decisions. You can't let Brett and Carly have their privacy. Just let them find their own way. It won't do any good if you're there every second, breathing down their necks, just waiting for the next drama to unfold.'

'I do not!' I cried out defensively. ' I'm their mother, Bosco! I try and prevent drama, not contribute to it. And you should be on my side! You don't even see what's going on, do you?' I accused. I felt hurt by his lack of understanding.

'What's going on? The only thing I see is that Mike got a new girlfriend who isn't Kath, by the way, and you don't like it. The only other thing that's going on is that your son doesn't tell you every blessed thing that happens in his life and you can't take it! You can't accept the fact that they are grown up.' He said, now lying back down and covering his face with his arm.

'I can too! I can't believe after all of these years you can't see what's going on with your son and Carly! Do you know that's she's sick?' I threw out.

'So what? She threw up. She's probably got a touch of the flu...'

'No. Last night at your party, didn't you see the way she and Brett were? Didn't you notice that they only talked to make it appear that nothing was wrong? Sasha told me that Carly has been throwing up at her house, too. Don't you see?' I cried, holding my arms out. It was the most simple thing in the world. Why didn't he see it too?

'Faith, _what _should I be seeing?' He asked in a tired voice. Apparently, I was enough to take the Christmas joy from him.

I pulled his arm off of his face so he could look at me, really look at me.

'Bosco. She's pregnant. I know it.' There. I'd said my suspicions.

He blinked rapidly and looked away for a second. 'What are you saying? Do you think Brett is the father?' he asked slowly.

I nodded. 'Yes. I do. They've been living together since they were eighteen years old. They don't see anyone else. Who else do you think it could be?' I asked softly.

He digested what I'd said. He sat up and rolled over on his elbow, his head resting in his hand.

'I admit I always wondered what was between them, but I just can't believe that they're together and they wouldn't say anything but...' He stopped and grinded his teeth together.

'What? _What?_' I asked when he didn't respond quickly enough. My mind was racing a mile a minute.

'Well, last night I got up to hit the head and went down stairs to see if I'd forgot to turn off any of the lights. You know that sometimes we forget...anyway, I went past the livingroom and Brett was in there talking on the phone.'

'And'? I asked breathlessly.

He scratched his head before continuing. 'And I heard him talking about some big mistake. I couldn't make it all out, cause I was still kinda drunk, but I definitely heard him say that he couldn't deal with it for much longer. He sounded really mad, like the time when Mike broke his G.I. Joe battle station, do you remember that?'

This was not the time for G.I. Joe. I pinched his arm and flashed him a warning look.

'Yesssssss...I remember, so what else did he say? Did you find out who he was talking to? Did it sound like he was talking about a baby?' I fired off my questions like a lawyer, not giving him enough time to even think about what I was asking.

He carefully pulled my arm away from him. 'Ouch! Don't pinch me! No. I didn't find anything else out. I guess I forgot my super-sensitive hearing and my recording device out in the car, Nancy Drew!' He said sarcastically, rubbing the pinch mark.

I slapped his arm and rolled out of bed. 'I'm sorry that you can't take this seriously, Bosco! There's something going on here! What are you gonna do to help me?'

He quickly jumped out of bed and came around to me and grabbed on to my arms. 'Listen. It's Christmas morning and we aren't going to do anything about it! Do you hear me? Promise me that you'll leave it alone, at least for today.' he pleaded. 'I swear, tomorrow both of us will talk to him. Both of us.'

I saw how much it meant to him to have peace on this day. I had to admit that it wasn't the best way to start our celebration. When he was little there was never a Christmas that didn't end up in disaster. Anthony always ended up getting too drunk and then he either beat up Rose or them. Sometimes both. Every year that we had been together, I had always tried to make it extra special for him, and here I was, being mean and starting an argument on this happy day. I felt myself soften.

'Okay, darling. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about them. I won't say anything today. I promise.' I said and kissed him.

He clapped his hands together, all Christmas spirit restored. 'Okay then, let's get the coffee on and then we'll make sure everyone gets up. I can't wait to see Little Faith open her doll. It's gonna be so great!'

He disappeared out the door and down the stairs. I put on my robe and brushed my hair back and put it securely in a pony-tail and headed downstairs to start our celebration.

By nine-thirty everyone was up and about. Mikey had arrived alone, thank goodness, just as we were about to open the gifts. We all gathered around the living-room and opened our presents. Emma and Robb were on top of the world watching Little Faith open her gifts and tear the beautifully wrapped paper into shreds. She got everything she could have ever wanted, not that a one year old could really_ want _much. Toys, toys, and more toys filled the room. She loved the doll that her gapa had given her. We had also given her a beautiful Victorian dollhouse, filled with furniture and accessories for when she was older. It cost almost two hundred dollars, but when I saw it in the department store window, I knew I had to get it for her.

Bosco had given me a new watch, three sweaters and a beautiful locket with both of our pictures inside. He also gave me a car-starter and a membership to a new gym that I had been wanting. I, in turn, had given him a new work bench that he could use in his garage, along with a new power saw and tool set that I knew he'd had his eyes on.

I thought I had found my favorite gift of all time when I was presented a slimly wrapped package that weighed quite a bit. It was from all three of my remaining children. They had taken a picture that had been taken almost thirty years ago of Bosco and myself outside of 55-David, our old patrol car. They had embossed it on a beautiful cherry wood plaque with engraved writing on a gold plate at the bottom.

'55-David: Love: Life: Eternity, Love Mike, Brett Emma.'

"Ohhhhhhh...I love it! Thank you so much!' I cried out, admiring all of the thought that had gone into this particular gift.

But that wasn't the last surprise for me. After looking to their father, who sat in a wicker rocking chair, looking a little somber, Brett stepped forward and placed another heavy package in my hand. 'Mom, this is from all of us to you. I hope you like it.' he said softly and went to sit down beside his brother and sister.

All of them looked at me with tight smiles on their faces. It confused me and made my heart flutter a bit. My hand trembled as I ripped the brightly festive paper off, looking every so often to one, or all of them, to find a clue as to why they'd all become quiet.

At last I had the paper off. Whatever was inside was heavy. I pulled off the top of the box and peered down at to what I thought was the most beautiful music/jewelry box I had ever seen. I sucked in my breath and tried to blink back the tears I felt building. I looked up at all of their dear faces, as the tears poured from my eyes and fell to my lap. It wasn't just the box, while lovely, that had made me cry. On the lid was a picture of all five of the children that I had given birth to. They had taken a picture of Mikey, Brett and Emma as small children and merged it together with another picture of Emily and Charlie. From the way the picture looked, it did seem as if they had all been together that day.

I tried to make the words come out of my mouth; I tried to speak, but all I could do was cry. I mean really bawl. It was the most wonderful gift I'd ever received. I kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them to Emily and Charlie's sweet faces. I'd never gotten over losing them.

Alarmed, Emma jumped up from her seated position on the floor next to her father's chair and threw her arms about my neck. 'Don't cry, momma. We didn't want you to be upset.' She consoled, running her fingers over my head.

I hugged her back and pulled her so she could look at me. 'I'm not upset, Em. I'm happy. Thank you all. This is the best gift I could have asked for.'

Brett and Mikey both nodded and then looked away. Neither of them could stand to see a woman cry. They had gotten that honestly enough, though. Bosco couldn't either and was soon making the excuse about needing to go to the kitchen to start our brunch before the Davis's arrived. Although, he did make his way over to me and kissed me on the cheek before leaving the room and then added on his way out. 'Hey snotface, go get a kleenex.'

So much for that moment.

We all gathered in the kitchen to make the brunch. We were having bacon and eggs with hash browns and english muffins. We were also having potato salad and garlic break and caesar salad. There would also be orange creme brule for desert that Sasha would bring. That woman was amazing in the kitchen.

Emma went upstairs to put Little Faith down for a nap and Robb went to take a shower. Brett and Mike helped set the table and do little chores that I needed done. It was fun, all of us together, getting ready to celebrate with our best friends.

'Rockin'Around the Christmas Tree' came on one of the old time radio stations and Bosco ran over to turn it up. He always loved getting into the season, and loved, loved the music, although he'd never admit it to anyone other than our family.

He swung his hips to the music as he fried a pan of bacon. 'Deck the halls with bells of holly...' He sang in a deep silly voice.

Brett even got into the mood and grabbed the mixing bowl I was using out of my hands and set it down by the sink and twirled me around. Laughing, I grabbed on to his shoulder and kept pace with him. He was a great dancer.

Mikey stood back, shaking his head and laughing. 'You guys should see yourselves' he scoffed.

Brett let me go and I twirled into my second son, who had to catch me by the waist or be knocked over. 'Oh come on Mike, dance with your momma'.

'Alright, alright.' he muttered, but obliged in leading me all over our huge kitchen and even dipping me at the end of the song.

Bosco had turned around and was watching and nodding to himself. He was impressed as I was with both of our son's abilities to dance.

'That's enough' Bosco said in a deep voice, faking anger. 'I'd like to cut in and have a dance with my lady, if you scoundrels don't mind.'

He came across the kitchen and gathered me in his strong arms and started to slow dance with me.

'Merry Christmas, Mrs. Boscorelli.' He whispered in my ear. His whiskers grazing over my cheek, his breath on my neck.

I tilted my head back and looked at my beloved. 'Merry Christmas, Mr. Boscorelli.' Impetuously I leaned in and gave him a long, passionate kiss. He returned the kiss, so much so, that both of our boys turned and left the kitchen.

I heard a door slam and boots being stamped in the foyer, but continued to kiss my husband passionately until I heard:

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?' Came the loud booming voice of no other than Ty Davis.

Bosco and I parted, both wiping our mouths off with our hands. Bosco stepped forward and shook Ty's hand.

"Buddy, glad you could make it. Merry Christmas!"

He started toward me, his hands outstretched. 'You gonna give me one of those kisses?'

I kissed him square on the lips, as I did every Christmas and hugged him. 'Merry Christmas Ty!'

Sasha was the last to come in. Tyrone, Tania and Elijah came in with Carly. After hugging all of them, I turned to Carly.

"Where's your momma, baby girl?' That was the name I had called her since the day she was born.

"Oh, she's out in the car. She asked me to get you to come out and help her with some stuff. Oh and something about a surprise or something?' Carly said as she shed her heavy coat.

'Ok. I'll go see what she needs.' I said, slipping on my boots and a heavy sweater. Winter in New York was colder than it used to be.

I made my way down the steps to the Davis's Durango. Sasha was sitting on the front seat. It looked like she had been crying. She exited the door and pulled me by the hand to the back of the vehicle, where she opened the trunk and began piling packages in my arms.

'Sasha, what's wrong?' I asked, as she put another package on top of the four that were already there.

'Sasha?' I again asked when she didn't answer.

She turned to me, and this time I really saw her. She was upset. Upset as I'd ever seen her. No one else could probably tell how extremely unnerved she was, except for maybe Ty.

She took a deep breath and blinked back her tears. 'Ok, we can't spend any time out here jabberin' but I talked to Carly...and..'

'And what?' I held my breath and bit down on my lip.

'She's pregnant.'


	7. A Turn Of Events

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to** arodloverus2001**, who is the only person faithfully reviewing this story. If it were not for you, this story would have been over long ago. So, to you: thanks.

**Pretend Game**

The rest of Christmas day sped by rather quickly. I have to admit that it was a lot harder than it looked to keep my knew-found knowledge to myself. Sasha and I had to pretend that we didn't know what we knew, thus acting like everything was perfectly normal and we were all just gathering together to celebrate the birth of Christ and our love of one another.

I was not the kind of person who dealt well with secrets. It just about killed me to keep my smile pasted to my face and keep up with idle chit chat. Sasha and I could barely look at one another without the fear of giving ourselves away. From across the room she and I would pass glances and knowing looks. Oh, I couldn't wait for this day to be done, when I could call her and we could have the privacy we needed for a conversation of this magnitude. To walk away and find somewhere to talk would blow the secret right out of the water. Carly could never suspect that Sasha had told me the secret of her pregnancy.

Honestly, I didn't know why she wouldn't want the rest of us to know. Brett was surely the father and didn't they think that we'd find out sooner than later any how? Oh, the agony of having that piece of information lingering on my brain was enough for me to want to call off the rest of Christmas day and just have it out with the two of them.

But I did none of that.

I sat before the fire that Bosco had kindled and stretched out my hands to feel the gentle warmth on me, while Brett, Carly, Emma and Rob played a game of Monopoly at the diningroom table. Mike had left to go 'do something'. My guess was that the thing that he was doing, had a name. Carmelle Sambrooke.

Bosco and Ty had stretched out on our long sectional sofa to drink rum and cokes and talk about the old days, each sporting new red wool sweaters that we had given them as an extra gift. They looked so handsome. Every once in a while one of them would take to a fit of laughing about something that someone had done. It still amazed me how close they were, even after all of these years.

Sasha and I sat quietly, our eyes connecting and holding, each scared of what the future held. I stood up and stretched my arms over my head and yawned. ' I think I ate enough to last me for a month. I'm gonna go start on those dishes.'

Immediately, Sasha stood and started clearing away some glasses and plates that had accumulated from the days events. ' You need some help'? She asked innocently, knowing it would give us the perfect excuse to talk.

I faltered and looked over at the Monopoly game. No one was listening to us or paying attention.

'Uh, sure. That would be great.' I said, as casually as I could.

Brett and Carly were in a furious war over Park Place and Boardwalk and Rob was lording it over everyone that he had more money then all of them put together. They were all laughing and joking around and in a festive mood. Emma was trying her best to steal money from Rob's stash when he wasn't looking. Little Faith lay asleep on the far end of the couch, pillows all around her.

"You're cheating!' Accused Brett, playfully pointing an arm at Carly.

'Am not! Prove it Boscorelli'. She challenged him, giving one of her sweetest smiles.

'By the way, Mrs. Justason'. Rob interjected, looking at his wife, and picking up his money and looking at it. ' You now owe me four hundred dollars from my count.'

'Ha, ha!' Emma laughed and leaned over and kissed him. It was enough for him to forget the money for a minute. He put his arm around her and kissed her passionately.

'Ok, ok, ok. Don't make us uncomfortable or anything.' Brett said sarcastically, throwing a hotel at the pair.

'Oh, leave them alone, B, they're in love.' Carly chastised gently, giving him a playful pinch on the arm.

He nodded and picked up the dice and rolled. 'Ok, now, you better watch out _Robert_, cause I am buying a hotel for Park Place _and_ Boardwalk.'

What surprised me was that there was no change what-so-ever in Carly's demeanor. She was certainly hiding any sorrow or worry that she had, and so was Brett. Why, we'd never have known that anything was wrong if she hadn't thrown up or I'd over heard them talking on the phone.

Ty leaned forward and held his empty glass out to his wife. ' Yes, woman! Go help clean up and refill my glass if you could.' He said in his silly drunk way, attempting to make a grand bow.

Bosco took the hint.

' Yes, dear wife, please do your womanly duty and give your man another refill as well.' He tried to sound suave and debonaire, but just sounded like an ass.

Both of them took into another fit of giggles when they saw the looks on our faces.

' Ya, I'll refill ya...right up your rump.' Sasha threw at them, hands on her hip, shaking her head. But she wasn't upset. Like me, she had learned that when Maurice Boscorelli and Ty Davis got together, there was bound to be stupid comments and lots of silliness.

Ignoring the both of them, Sasha and I left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

I exhaled the breath I'd been subconsciously holding when I got to the sink. I turned around to face my friend, waiting for her to tell me tidbits of her story, if she could.

We began to stack the dishes and glasses and I filled the sink and put the water on full blast.

' Well?' I whispered.

She turned to the door, to make sure that no one was around before she spoke what, to her, were words of the most importance and very, very top secret.

' I asked her last night after we got home. She denied it at first.' Sasha whispered.

' And'?

' I told her I knew something was goin' on and that I knew she was sick and that she couldn't hide it from us for too much longer.' She continued, breathless, as if she was were being chased by the devil and had to spill her story before he caught up with her.

I widened my eyes, wondering what happened next.

' She just sat down on the bed and started to cry and wouldn't say nothing else. I asked her to tell me how far along she was and she just started to cry harder. I took that as a confession. I told her that it would be ok and that she could always count on us for anything.' She stopped talking and pursed her lips together, as if what were to come next was too awful to repeat.

" Sash? What is it?' I pursued.

She shook her head and said that she had made a terrible mistake and that nothing could undo it. She was especially scared about your family.'

I blanched, not understanding.

'My family? What does that mean?'

She shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine, girl. I asked her and she said that everyone would hate her when they knew. I think she's afraid because her and Brett haven't even told anyone that they're together. Only the good Lord knows why they never told us, but he knows.' She muttered.

'Sasha, there is more to this story than either of us know.' I said slowly. 'This doesn't even make sense.' I said, more confused than I had been before.

But that night, after everyone had left and Bosco and I were getting ready for bed, the phone rang. It seemed that these late night phone calls were becoming something of a usual thing at our house.

'Who could that be?' I wondered aloud. I pulled my blue nightgown over my head and walked over to my dresser and grabbed my brush. I sat down at my vanity table and began to count the strokes. I always brushed my hair one hundred times before I went to bed each night. It really did work, because I still had shiny soft hair.

'Probably wrong number.' Bosco grumbled, pulling off his jeans and throwing his new red sweater on a pile on his side of the bed. Now only in a pair of green boxer shorts, he slipped under the covers and rolled over on his side watching me.

It only rang once, and I wasn't sure that anyone had even picked up. There was only one phone upstairs and two downstairs. One in the kitchen and one in the living room.

'Let it go. It's still Christmas day. Remember your promise?' He said reminded me gently.

I sighed and looked at his reflection in my mirror. 'I know. I didn't say a word all day long.' I shot back.

He laughed, that familiar sparkle making his eyes twinkle. 'Oh how you must have suffered!'

'Oh shut up.' I mumbled. He was right in a way; It was terrible for me to have to keep my mouth closed for a whole day and not mention anything to either Brett or Carly. He didn't understand how hard it was for a mother to butt out of her children's affairs, he didn't!

'I bet that tongue of yours is just about sawed off in half, isn't it?' He pursued, rolling over onto his back and tucking his hands behind his head.

I guess he was in a thoughtful mood.

'Bosco! You should be proud of me for not saying anything, not badgering me. A little support would be nice you know.' I lectured my fifty-seven year old husband.

By this time, I was getting pretty tired and now, with his teasing me, a bit irritated. He turned his head my way and grinned at me. I knew that grin.

Yes. I knew that grin well. He always used it when he could sense that I was about fed up with him. And although there were many times that I was very irritated and grumpy he could always get me in the mood with that one look he gave me. He undressed me with his eyes, his tongue wetting his sensual lips and within ten seconds I wanted him. He was that good.

'Welllll...why don't you come into bed and I'll show you just how proud of you I am.' He said in his most inviting way. He even batted his eyes at me and motioned for me to come closer with his finger.

I felt myself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I got in bed beside him and I could feel my heart beating a million miles a minute. He simply stared at me, drinking me in with his eyes, his breath on my cheek. I still got excited when I knew he was going to make love to me. I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the greatest love I had ever known.

After it was over, I lay in his arms for a few minutes, relishing the feel of his arms around me, the feel of his cheek against my neck. His smell, his taste, his lips on my mind, as they always were when we were done.

As I was about to close my eyes and fall into a deep restful sleep, the telephone rang again. This time it was picked up after two rings.

This was enough. I had to find out what the hell was happening with my family. I jumped out of bed and grabbed my robe and slippers.

I did up the belt on my robe and tightened it around me and glanced at Bosco, who was now passed out on our bed snoring. When he had any amount of alcohol he always feel asleep ten times better.

Tonight I didn't mind.

I took a deep breath and put my trembling hand on the door knob and opened it slowly. I knew in my heart who was on that phone and I knew that there was more to this story than I would ever know.

Unless...

It was wrong, I know it was. But sometimes a mother has instincts that carry her along, like a piece of driftwood, caught in an undercurrent so strong that she had no choice but to let it take her where it would.

I felt the soft carpet on the bottom of my feet as I slowly made my way downstairs. There weren't any lights on, so I felt along the wall with my hand until I got to the bottom.

I continued on down the hall walking as quietly. Nothing could be heard except the sound of my slippers along the hardwood floor. As I neared the livingroom, I could hear Brett speaking harshly.

'I don't care! Do you think I wanted to deal with this either?'

I stood still just outside the door, hoping he would reveal what the problem was.

'Want it? What do you mean?'

'No! We didn't plan on anything like that happening...but...what?'

For the life of me I couldn't understand why the two of them hadn't told us what was happening between them sooner. We all knew what was going on...why all the secretiveness? Why hadn't Brett told me she was pregnant himself? It was driving me crazy.

All his life, my Brett had been responsible in everything he did, be it grades, chores or friendships. He had always been the one that I didn't have to worry about, especially with his girlfriends. He and I had always been close, even in his teenage years and he had always come to me with questions or concerns he had. I never worried about him getting a girl pregnant, the way I had always done with Mikey. Mikey was a totally different person than his brother.

Mike had grown up and taken after the way Bosco had been, except that he had never had a real respect towards women the way that Bosco and Brett had. I didn't know why. It just seemed that Mikey was only out for one thing. That was until he had met Kath. I sighed just thinking about poor Kath and how lonely she must be this time of year. I made up my mind to give her a call the next free minute I had.

I crossed my arms over my breasts and held my breath. And then, the sound of Brett sniffling.

Was he crying?

'Can't you just tell me?' He cried out, the agony in his voice all but tearing me apart.

'Damn you to hell!' Was the last thing I heard before he flung my cordless phone against the fireplace, smashing it to bits.

Oh, the anger and resentment I felt for Carly Davis at that moment was monumental. I couldn't believe that she had done this to my son! I could hear the sound of Brett sobbing but it sounded like he had buried his face into a pillow.

Ignoring my first instinct to just turn and walk away and let my son deal with this himself, I took a deep breath and stepped into the livingroom. There was a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, lighting up the room in a cozy, romantic sort of way, but the scene before me was anything but.

Brett was on the sectional couch hunched over, his head in his hands. He was sobbing as quietly as he could, the tears running off of his cheeks and dripping onto his pajama pants. He made no move to even look up at me, even though he knew I was there.

I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. For once he didn't resist. He turned and buried his face into my lap, clinging onto my legs.

'She's pregnant, mom. She's pregnant.' He kept saying over and over again.

I ran my hands through his sandy hair and murmured words of comfort as best I could. 'Darling, it's ok. It's going to be ok.'

Finally, he sat up and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. 'You must think I'm some kind of wimp, huh?' He said dejectedly.

I widened my eyes. 'No! Don't ever say that! I think you're wonderful. Please tell me what has been going on with you two. I can't stand to see you so upset. Please.' I begged my third son.

He stood up and walked over to our dining room table and poured himself a big glass of Bosco's scotch. Brett was never much of a drinker. Until now.

He took a sip before making his way back to the couch. He sat down, heavily sat.

I sat there beside my son and waited what seemed like an eternity for him to speak. He was so handsome, so virile and dangerous looking when he was angry. And he was angry now.

'Brett...' I began.

He held up his hand and shook his head. 'No. Just give me a minute to think.'

I began to bit my fingernails. It was a habit I'd had since childhood and it seemed that it would never be broken. I was nervous and I knew no other way to cope with nervousness other than talking a blue streak.

He clanked his glass down on the coffee table and sat back again. He crossed one leg over his knee and began to drum his foot on the floor. He didn't even look at me as he began.

' I know that you know about Carly and me. I don't know why we never told anyone before now, but it just seemed more...private.'

'How long?'

'Three years.'

I gasped. Three years? Three long years, they had been together? I had always known...but to hear it struck me like a blow to the head. What other secrets did they have about their lives in Cambridge? I said nothing more, afraid that he wouldn't tell me what he had on his mind.

'Yes, mother. Three years of bliss. Three years of love and faithfulness and trust...gone down the drain. I can't believe she let herself get pregnant.' He said in a mournful voice reserved for someone talking about the dearly departed. But in that moment, I understood that Brett saw this child as the death of his relationship, essentially, his life with Carly. I was a little surprised though, at his apparent upset over his own child.

'Down the drain because of the baby?' I asked softly.

'It wasn't supposed to happen this way, mom.'

What could I say to that? Who ever had everything happen to them the way they wanted? Even the super rich knew that nothing was ever perfect. My heart went out to my third son, my one son that I never worried about. Until now.

'Brett, a baby is a wonderful thing. I remember when I found out that I was carrying you. I never thought I could love another baby as much as I loved Emily and Charlie, and then Mikey, but the moment I saw your sweet face I knew that I was in love all over again. It will happen to you when you see your son or daughter for the first time. Those tiny fingers and toes and the sweetest face you ever saw...oh Brett, it will be wonderful...I promise.'

He looked over at me, not convinced. 'When you met dad how did he treat Emily and Charlie?'

His question threw me for a second, for it was quite out of context. 'Well, he always loved them. We were partners for a long time before we were lovers. Fred and I had divorced and Bosco and I started spending a lot of time together and he loved my kids. He was always there for them. They called him 'uncle Bosco' from the time they could talk.' I said, my voice soft and dreamlike, as it always was when I recalled my two eldest children.

He said nothing else, just looked at the ceiling for the longest time. I reached over and took his hand into mine.

'Brett, don't you want this child? Your own flesh and blood?' I asked, looking deep into his eyes, for I could not believe that he could be so cold and callous. His father and I had taught him better.

He groaned and shook his head. 'Yes and no. I love Carly with my whole heart, mom. I love her so much it hurts...but you don't know everything and once you do, there won't be any going back. She didn't want me to tell you anything, not even that she was pregnant...but I bet Sasha already told you.'

My silence was as good as a confession. He saw it in my face.

'I won't tell her. Don't worry.'

'I wasn't worried. I'm worried about what you're going to do about your attitude.' I said, a little starchily.

He scoffed at me. 'You really think you've got it all figured out, don't you? You think I won't love my own kid. You think I'm being selfish, don't you?' He accused brokenly, his voice shrill, his face a mask of pain, in the glow of the fire.

Again, my silence told him what he wanted to know.

'Well, you don't understand'. He said, just as starchily.

'Don't understand what, exactly? That you got your girlfriend pregnant and it's an inconvenience to you...'. I began.

'It's not mine.' He blurted.

'What?' I had to hear it again.

'It's not my baby, mom. She slept with someone else.'


	8. Cat Out Of The Bag

The next day I felt as though my eyes had been held shut with heavy stones and I actually struggled to open them, knowing what opening them would signify; I would have to deal with what Brett had told me the night before.

I had tossed and turned and flitted from one dream to another the entire night and felt like I had just dozed off when I felt Bosco roll over and get out of bed. I didn't even open my eyes. I wanted to stay asleep, or at least look like I was asleep for as long as I could.

Even though I was wearing my red flannel pajamas I still felt cold. I pulled my apricot colored duvet up around my chin and snuggled deeper into it's warmth. My head felt hot and my limbs cold, a sure sign that I was in emotional stress.

When Brett had confessed that he was not the father of Carly's child, I will admit that it crushed me terribly. I knew that the pain and torment he now felt could not be erased. Even if he decided to stay with her he would be raising another man's child. Whoever this mystery man was, I wondered if he knew about the baby. It made me remember a time when things were very similar in my life.

When I was a lot younger I had been married to Fred and he had given me two wonderful children; Emily and Charlie. We had gotten pregnant and married within our last year of highschool. Fred was an alcoholic, among other things, and was very controlling of me. He needed to know where I went, when I went and how I went_ anywhere._ So, it was understandable when I joined the force and ended up with a male partner, that he was very upset about it. In fact, he never got over thinking and accusing me of sleeping with Bosco. It made life very hard and there were times that I was tempted to do just that, but I never did.

The time came when I could no longer live with him and we separated. Eventually he began to drink harder and for longer periods of time. I had my reservations about him being allowed to see the kids but he was still their father and time after time I relented and let them go.

During that time I had made a few mistakes of my own, namely, sleeping with a fire fighter who was well known at our precinct, Jimmy Dorhety. Bosco had been seeing a woman named Sarah Richardson for some time and things were going well between them. Knowing that we would never be together, I decided to cement my freedom and go out and do something wild. I went out one night after a hard day at work and met up with Jimmy at a bar. I went home with him, despite Bosco's blatant feelings of disgust over it. I woke the next day feeling terrible and very hung over and left Jimmy's as soon as I could get dressed. Even though I felt bad, Jimmy was a very desirable man and I ended up going back and letting it happen all over again.

I never understood Bosco's anger over it and began to question in my own mind whether or not he was jealous. I knew how I felt about him but never dreamed that my feelings would be reciprocated. One night as I was leaving the precinct, Bosco followed me. We had had a terrible fight in the locker room and I wanted to get out of there and go home and sleep, but he followed me. He caught up to me on the street and confessed his love for me. He kissed me deeply and told me he loved me. I never thought I could be so happy. We made plans to meet up at the end of the night at his place.

But that wasn't to be.

I had gone home to get some things and had been confronted at my door by Sully and Ty Davis. They told me the worst words I could ever imagine hearing; that my children had been killed in a terrible auto accident and that Fred had been the driver. He had been drunk and they never knew what had hit them.

It was the beginning of the darkest period in my life. For weeks, I stayed in bed crying over the love I had lost. When a mother loses her children it is as if a part of her has been ripped out and can never be replaced. Bosco stayed with me during that whole time and gave me comfort as best he could. It was five weeks after the funeral that I woke up with the symptoms of pregnancy. I went to the doctor and he told me that I was in fact pregnant. A kind of joy came into my heart as I realized that I would have something to live for again. He examined me with a new piece of equipment that could show accurately how far along I was. When he told me the news I was devastated. The child I was carrying was Jimmy Dorhety's.

To make a long story short, I didn't tell Bosco the truth that I had learned until much later. I had a miscarriage one evening when he was at work and it wasn't until after that I told him about the baby's parentage. He was shocked and as angry as I'd ever seen him. He threw me out that very night and I went to stay with Sasha, who had become a very good friend to me.

Sasha and Ty had broken up because she had gotten an abortion without Ty's consent. He wanted a family and she wasn't ready. He had left her and so there was room for me to stay at her apartment. We grew closer during that time.

Bosco had been unable to deal with what had happened and started drinking heavily. He called me one night, in the middle of the night and asked me to come over. I came over as fast as I could. His apartment was a total mess, as was he. He brought out his anger and sorrow upon me and told me he couldn't live without me. It was a confession that I knew was hard for him to make. I had a confession of my own.

A week or so before, my doctor had called me to tell me he had been wrong with my due date and that meant that the baby I had been carrying was Bosco's child. I told him this, knowing that it would hurt him more, but I couldn't be dishonest anymore. He cried when I told him, but it had made all the difference to him that I hadn't been carrying another man's child. We spent the night together and by the morning, we felt as if we had come through the storm. We had been together ever since.

I understood better than Brett could ever have known. I knew his feelings of grief and anger toward the only woman he had ever loved. I understood why he felt that his life was no longer the same. He had said one last thing to me as we stood at the top of the stairs, his voice dull and thick with emotion.

' Ma. Don't tell anyone about this. Please.'

Oh, how I hurt for my third son right then.

' Brett, I have to tell your father. What would he think if we held this from him? He'd be very upset.' I said softly, reaching out to caress his cheek.

He thought for a minute before running his hand over his chin. ' Ok. But no one else. I can't deal with this right now and the last thing I need is for everyone to be asking questions. And one more thing.' He said pointedly.

'What's that?'

' Don't say anything to Carly or the Davis's about this. Carly feels really bad...and I don't want you treating her any differently.'

That was just like him; to think of someone else's pain before his own. Even though Carly had done a terrible thing, he was thinking of her feelings first. It was going to be tough, though, to not treat her any differently, to demand to know how she could betray my son in such a way that he might never recover. Still, I nodded my head in agreement.

He left me then and walked slowly toward his own room, his head down in defeat. He was hurting so much it made me want to scream. I walked to my own room and shut the door. What were we going to do now?

' Well, look who's awake.' I heard a deep voice from the doorway of the bathroom.

I rolled over on to my back and looked at my husband. He strode into the room wearing nothing but a towel swathed around his narrow hips. He was still wet from his shower and beads of water still clung to his skin and dripped from his hair.

He still took my breath away. He was so sexy and his body was as firm as it ever was. He was just beginning to have a little protrusion on the front of his belly but he was still a lady-killer. I sometimes felt like a school-girl, staring at him and feeling my heart flutter as if I was some teenager in heat.

' Like what you see?' He asked in a husky voice as he dropped the towel onto the floor. One look at his bottom half told me that he had already planned a morning tryst with me. But that couldn't be. We needed to talk and I dreaded every second of it.

I struggled to sit up. ' I always like what I see, but we need to do something first.' I said

' You know you are very sexy in the morning, Faith?' He asked as he pulled open his dresser drawer and rooted around for some underwear.

My blond hair was a mess and I hadn't taken the time to wash the makeup off of my face. Yes, I knew just how sexy I looked in the morning.

' Bosco, we need to talk and it can't wait.' I said slowly.

He turned around and faced me. 'What is it?'

' Can you come and sit down here for a sec?' I asked, patting the bed.

He pulled out a pair of clean boxers and slid them over his muscled legs and then grabbed a t-shirt and pair of jeans and put them on, succoming to the fact that he wasn't getting any action at the moment and came and sat next to me on the bed.

' So, what is it? Something with one of the kids?' He asked, as he put his socks on.

I nodded and took a deep breath. ' There's something that I have to tell you and you're going to be upset but I need you to promise me that you won't say anything to anyone.'

Worry flashed over his face and he automatically reached for the chain around his neck. His fingers nervously began to twist the charm around, as he did every single time something was wrong.

' How can I promise that when I don't even know what you're talking about?'

' Please. Just promise me.'

' I can't promise you that. Just tell me what it is.' He said, starting to get a tiny bit irritated.

' Bos, just promise me or I can't tell you.' I said. It was the same way that things had been between us for thirty years. I tried to make him promise something when he didn't know all the facts, and he would get upset and angry because he didn't know what to expect.

' Like hell you can't!' He flared. ' You can't do that, Faith. It's not fair. Just tell me what it is and I'll do my best to keep calm.'

I couldn't blame him for being annoyed with me. I just knew that he was going to be really mad when he found out that Brett was so hurt. He would understand better than I ever could, I thought to myself. After all, he once had to deal with the same thing. It was a subject that was sore with him and something that he never talked about.

It was as if the past had come back to haunt us and I was once again being punished for my sins, except this time my son would bear the brunt of the hurt, and probably my husband.

' Brett confided something in me last night. Part of it I expected and part of it I didn't. He told me that I could tell you and only you about it, but he made me promise that you wouldn't say a word to Carly or to Sasha or Ty.' I began.

' She's pregnant, isn't she?' He asked quickly.

' Yes.'

'So, what's the big deal? They are old enough to have a kid together. Hell, they've been living together for years now. Why are you so upset?' He asked, looking a little relieved.

' Bos..' I began

'Faith, is it because they aren't married yet? Is that why? Just think about it for a minute...we weren't married and we still had sex...you really didn't think that they were just friends, did you?'

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and rubbed his thumb in circles around my face. 'Babe, you didn't think he'd stay a kid forever did you?' He was trying to be tender and loving toward me, but instead was making it look like I had no sense whatsoever.

I held on to his hand and looked at him, knowing that what I was about to tell him would change everything. The way he thought about Carly would change, the relationship we had with her would be strained.

' Just think about it, Faith. We're gonna be grandparents again and Little Faith will have a cousin to play with and...' He was getting excited about it and wore a silly expression on his face.

I shook my head. ' No. We aren't going to be grandparents.' I said softly.

Confusion settled on his face. 'What do you mean?' He asked, the silly smile starting to fade.

' I mean that this baby isn't going to be our grandchild.'

His faced changed in an instant from confusion to anger. ' She's gonna have an abortion? Is that what you're trying to say?' He spit at me.

' No.'

'Well then, what?' He cried, terribly confused by what was going on. He didn't understand.

' What I'm saying, what Brett told me last night, is that this baby isn't his.' I said quickly.

He sat there for a moment, his eyes blinking rapidly, as if the information couldn't reach his brain and make him understand. His hand reached back up for the chain and he began to twist it over and over again.

'Bos?'

He said nothing, simply stared off into space as he digested this terrible information and I was sure he was thinking about what had happened to us all of those years ago. I watched him closely, trying to guess as to what he was thinking. He made no movement other than blinking his eyes. He chewed furiously on his bottom lip and I could tell that he was holding in an anger that I hadn't seen in a long time.

As the seconds ticked by I began to wonder if he was going to speak at all and then he turned to me, one shiny tear lodged in the corner of his eye.

'It's happening again, isn't it?' He whispered, clenching his jaw. Oh, he was going to come undone for sure. My heart constricted as I heard his words, knowing what he was getting at. It still hurt to know that he couldn't let it go.

'Bos, this isn't us. This is Brett and Carly's life, not what happened all of those years ago.' I grasped at the words to try and comfort him.

' How could she do that to my son...how could she betray him like that?' He whispered, shaking his head back and forth.

I put my hand over his again, in an attempt to calm him down again. I should have known how he'd react to such a betrayal. It was as if he was going back in time, feeling the feelings that had been thrust upon him all those years ago.

He jerked away and stood up, his eyes blazing. 'That slut! That little slut! How could she do that to him! How are we supposed to see her again?' He roared, losing control. His face was now a deep shade of red and his eyes were wild. He looked like someone that was ready for a good fist fight.

I jumped out of bed and grabbed his arm and put one hand on his face. 'Don't say that!' I hissed, desperately afraid that Brett or someone else would hear him.

'I promised Brett that you wouldn't say a word to anyone! You can't break his trust! Now calm down before you wake the whole house, do you hear me?' I ordered him savagely.

' I have to get the hell out of here!' He snapped at me and stormed out of the bedroom. I tried to run after him but his legs were longer and faster. He made his way down the stairs and slipped into his sneakers and coast and out the front door. It slammed behind him. He hopped into our blue mustang and tore down the driveway.

I stood at the window and watched him go down the street, terribly afraid that I'd never see him again. Tears ran down my cheeks.

' Mom, what's going on?' I heard a deep voice, along with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Startled, I turned around to see my second son staring at me. ' Nothing, honey. Your father is upset, that's all. It'll be alright.' I sniffled.

Mikey narrowed his eyes, not believing me. ' I heard what dad said, ma. Who was he talking about?'

I shook my head, not wanting to give away Brett's secret. ' I can't say, honey. Just...just...leave it be.' I said sadly.

I walked away from him and returned to my bedroom and went directly to the shower and turned the water on full blast. Changing my mind, I put the stopper in the drain and began to fill the tub. A long soak was just what I needed to calm down. I added some bath salts and then got undressed. I grabbed my pink fluffy bath towel and set it beside the tub and got in.

Tears of frustration cascaded down my cheeks and dripped off of my chin. Poor Brett. Poor Bosco. Would our family ever be truly happy?


	9. Yoúr What?

It wasn't long after I had got out of the tub that Brett came into my room to announce that he and Carly were leaving to go back to Boston. Bosco hadn't returned from where ever he had gone to cool off, but it also meant that he wouldn't get to say good bye to his son.

He looked taller than ever to me that day, with his head held high and his shoulders back. He stood waiting at the foot of my bed, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. He had his sheep skin coat on with a dark burgundy sweater underneath and a pair of dark dress pants. He was leaving me again, and before we had a chance to talk further.

It was obvious that he had heard Bosco's ranting and his unkind words, from the deep way he had set his jaw and curled out his lovely shaped lips.

'I'm leaving.' He said curtly, ignoring the hurt look on my face.

I came out of the bathroom and rushed over to embrace him. 'Please don't go yet! We didn't get to talk about this...please stay another day.' I begged, hugging him tightly to me.

He shrugged out of my arms and looked down at me. ' Mom, I heard what dad said and I didn't like it. She's not a slut. She's my...my...' he looked around searching for the appropriate words.

"The love of my life. And even though she has hurt me deeply, I won't turn my back on her. Not now. Not ever. I'll talk to you later.' He turned then and attempted to walk away from me.

'Brett Charles Boscorelli! Don't walk out on me!' I cried angrily. I couldn't help it...he was walking out on me before we even had a chance to discuss it. It made me feel worse that he was being mean to me when he had cried on my shoulder and I had been there for him. He still needed me whether or not he would admit it, and I wasn't letting him walk out of my house on bad terms with his own father.

'I'm not a child any more mom.' He said over his shoulder as he exited my bedroom and started down the hall. ' And you can't tell me what to do.'

I ran out of my bedroom and down the stairs behind him, ignoring the fact that Emma and Rob and Little Faith had just risen and were coming out of their room. Little Faith gurgled happily in her father's arms and reached out for me.

' Hi mom.' Emma said, as I ran by them.

She and Rob looked at one another and followed me down the stairs.

'Brett!' I cried, reaching the bottom step and grabbing on to his coat.

'What?' He turned and yelled at me, his face a flame of anger. His deep blue eyes pierced through me, making me feel every bit of his displaced emotions

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. 'There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you but you need to stop _right now_ and talk to me. Don't you walk away from me, young man, for I am _still your mother_ and I have a right to talk to you _when ever I want_!' I shrilled at him.

He stood still, gaping at me and I realized I had never spoken to him that way before but at least I had his attention for the moment.

I took another step forward. 'I am very sorry that you are hurt and your father is sorry, so sorry, that he tore out of here before he lost his mind. Now, what you heard this morning was him expressing himself in a surprised manor, in which he will be sorry for later. Don't walk out of here without saying goodbye to him. He loves you and he is very upset that Carly would do this to you.'

'What did Carly do? What's going on here?' Emma interrupted from the stairs, where the three of them had stopped. Rob held Little Faith against his chest, a look of confusion written over his handsome features.

Brett looked up and her and back at me and shook his head. 'Just great! Is everyone going to know what happened now? Is my whole personal life going to be an open book?' He yelled.

Emma, clearly hurt and surprised at her older brother's reaction, didn't know what to say. Tears welled up in her deep blue eyes and she reached her hand up to brush them away. Rob put a protective arm around her and whispered something in her ear. They finished walking down the stairs and went down our long hall into the kitchen. Not a word was said.

He turned from me and put his hand on the door knob and leaned his head and rested it on the wooden doorframe, seemingly exhausted. 'I don't care to discuss this with you any further, mother.' He said simply.

'Fine. Don't then. But I'll tell you that your father and I both understand what you're going through and we want to talk to you about it. Why don't you move home for a while?' I suggested, liking the theory.

He laughed, a thin and brittle laugh. 'And what? Have you and dad in my face all day long? I don't' think so!' He spat at me.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I found it hard to breathe. He had never been so hateful and hurtful and I realized at that moment that maybe I didn't know my third son as well as I thought I had. He had been with us for four days and he had hid his sorrow and anger very well, up until this point. He was acting like a person that I had never seen before.

Brett had never had a temper. He was always calm and he never, never said hurtful things. Maybe he had just grown up to be someone that I didn't realize. I knew that all children are different to their mothers than they are to everyone else, and that they almost have two personalities; One that they show to their families and the other that is their true selves. But the way he was acting came as such a shock to me that I couldn't make my brain compute as to how he had become this way.

'Brett, don't talk to me like that! I love you and it hurts me to hear you speak to me with such anger. Why don't you consider it? You could take some time off work and then decide what you want..'

'What I want to do? Is that what you were going to say? Do you think that I'd actually leave my..my...girlfriend in the lurch when things got bad?' He yelled again, furious with me for even saying such a thing.

' Well, you aren't going to stay with her now that she's pregnant with another man's child are you?' I yelled back at him, starting to lose control of myself.

He pointed at me, his whole face red and aflame with anger. 'Don't even say it! I'm not leaving her, do you get that? She's my...she's my...' He floundered and stopped what he was going to say. ' Oh what the hell does it matter anymore?' He shouted, looking up at the ceiling.

I was starting to get scared. I never thought that I would be afraid of my own child, but the truth was that he was not the Brett that I raised and he was not the young man I thought he was. The look in his eye was pure rage. Even his usually calm eyes were bloodshot and wild looking.

At that moment I wondered if he had a drinking problem or a drug problem that we didn't know about. He had drank at least three or four drinks a day for the whole time he had been home, but I had thought at the time that it was just because of the season.

I stepped back a few feet and crossed my arms over my breasts, not knowing what to say but knowing that I had to say something to let him know that we still supported him. He was still my son and no matter what ugly words came out of his mouth, I had to tell myself that it was only because he was hurting so badly.

'You'll get over it eventually, we'll be here to help you. You can get another girlfriend when you're ready.' I said softly.

This time he turned from me and swung open the door and when he looked back, it was with disgust.

'She's not my girlfriend, mother. She's my wife.'


	10. HopeFloats

For the next few days I did nothing but mope around the house. I didn't answer the phone, but I did check to see if any of the calls were from out of state, but none ever were. I knew Sasha had called a number of times but I couldn't find the strength to talk to her. I was so upset that I had made myself sick. It was all I could do to get out of bed in the morning and face a new day. Bosco wasn't much better and spent most of his time out in the garage tinkering around with different things, or so he told me. I knew that he was just going out there to avoid being inside with me because he didn't know what to say. What could either of us say to the bomb shell that our second son had thrown upon us? Congratulations?

Emma and Rob had gone back home but they weren't too far away. I never did tell Emma the full extent of what had happened but she was determined to find out somehow. She pried away at Bosco until he snapped at her and went out to the garage. I did tell her that Brett and Carly had gotten married and that we didn't know much else. She didn't quite know how to take it, but she saw how upset I was and didn't press me any further. She left, unhappy and hurt, and it made both Bosco and myself feel even worse. This was the hardest holiday I had ever spent. But Bosco was taking the news harder than I was and I was beginning to get worried.

I knew he was extremely upset about the way that our son had left and not said goodbye. He was also very disturbed by the change in Brett and the way he had treated me. He was moody, stone-faced and irritable and it was driving me crazy. As a result, we avoided each other and said as little as possible. Neither one of us had a clue how to deal with the situation we had been dealt. He had also started smoking again, which was something he did after every single one of the crises's we had been through in the last thirty years. It wasn't something he came right out and told me, it was something I smelled. He didn't say anything and I didn't mention it. After all, we had more things to worry about at the moment.

In some ways I blamed myself for him feeling as bad as he did. I knew that a lot of what was wrong was his own feelings concerning what had happened to us years ago and the fact that he still hurt over it sometimes.

The day was Thursday and it had been four days since Brett and Carly had flown back to Boston. We hadn't heard a word from either of them but we had left plenty of messages. It seemed that they had totally fallen off the face of the earth.

Bosco was in the livingroom taking down some of our decorations and I was still in my red flannel pajamas, with my hair tied up in a sloppy bun. It had become my uniform. The uniform of the depressed.

I had just finished washing the breakfast dishes when the phone rang. I grabbed a dishtowel and dried off my hands as I walked over to the telephone stand next to the microwave to see who it was. It was Sasha again. Inwardly I groaned, not knowing how to start the conversation that I knew we had to have sooner than later. I had to admit that I was very turned off by Carly and had a very sore spot on my mind that directly related to her and her betrayal and that was partly the reason for me not wanting to talk to her. But that was selfish and unfair of me to act like that towards my best friend. She had no more control over what Carly did, as I had none over anything that my kids did. It didn't seem fair to me and I wondered just how much our friendship would be tested before it was through.

After five rings I decided to pick it up.

'Hello?'

'Faith?' Sasha's angry voice shrilled through the phone.

'Hi Sash.'

'Did you _hear_ what those two went off and _did?_'

My heart sank. It was true. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had hoped that Brett had told me that as some kind of dirty trick and although I knew it wasn't, hearing it from someone else opened up a wound that hadn't even begun to heal.

'Ya. Brett told me just before they left.' I answered without enthusiasm.

'Well? What else did he tell you, cause Carly ain't saying nothin' to me or Ty. Ty's just about crazy from not knowin'..' She grumbled. 'I could kill them! I could just kill the pair of them. What were they thinking?'

I shook my head and sat down at the kitchen table. I was shocked that Carly hadn't said anything to them about it not being Brett's child. Apparently they were very good at keeping secrets. Why hadn't she told her mother? I debated telling her right there and then but decided that maybe it was something that she needed to hear face to face. I owed her that much.

'They weren't.' I said dryly.

'How long ago did they do it?'

I hadn't thought of that. I hadn't even asked, although to be fair to me, I really didn't have time, as the door was slammed shut in my face.

'I don't know. Brett was really angry when he left and I didn't get a chance to ask.' I said truthfully.

'Well, I still don't understand what in heaven's name is goin on around here, do you?'

'Sash, I think you should come over and we'll talk about it.' I said wearily. I bowed my head into my palm, feeling the beginning of a terrific headache coming on.

Instantly she understood that I knew much more than she.

'You know something, don'tcha?'

'Too much, if you ask me. Just get ready and come over at about twelve or so. We'll have lunch..' I said softly.

As soon as I hung up the phone I burst into tears. I ran upstairs to my room and flopped myself down on my queen sized bed and really let go. I sobbed until my throat was raw and I actually felt like I would throw up.

I resented being put in the position of having to tell Sasha her own daughter's business. I thought about how and what I would tell her and I knew it was going to crush her either way. I would have to be the one to tell her that her own daughter had played around on my son and that she was pregnant with a mystery man's child. How was that supposed to work?

'Faith? Faith, are you up here?' Bosco's voice called me from downstairs. I tried to answer but my throat was raspy and couldn't get the words out.

I could hear him coming up the stairs and then walking down the hall. Part of me hoped that he would just go back downstairs or to wherever he had come from and not look for me. The other part, the part of me that needed to be comforted, hoped that he would open the bedroom door. He found me anyway and as soon as he saw my tear streaked face he rushed into the room and pulled me into a hug.

Even though we had barely spoken for the last few days and even though we had hardly looked at each other for fear we'd both cry, the walls came crumbling down when he touched me. We needed each other, to comfort and to hold. There was no point in being distanced from one another at a time like this. We needed to be united, so that when the harder times came we would stand firm.

'What's wrong, honey? Did you hear from Brett?' He asked worriedly.

I shook my head and clung to him tighter, like a drowning woman clutching a piece of driftwood.

He rocked me back and forth as if I were a baby, and not for the first time, I felt so lucky to have him by my side. He kissed my face, my hair, my eyes. He soothed and petted me and rubbed my back until I could finally speak again. It never ceased to amaze me, the way he could put anything aside and come to my aid, even if he was less than pleased with me at the time, he always put me first.

I looked up into his dear, familiar face as he leaned over me and reached for a kleenex and wiped my eyes tenderly.

'I'm sorry.' I whispered, feeling so bad that we had ignored each other.

'For what?' He asked, as he threw the soiled tissue on the floor.

'For everything...for not paying attention to you...for not being here for you when I should have been...for Brett and for Carly...I'm just sorry.' I babbled, holding him tightly around the waist.

He held me equally as tight and ran his hand through my hair, loosening the bun and letting it fall down my back. 'I'm sorry too. Jeez, Faith, I just can't wrap my head around this. I don't understand what is happening with them. I don't know what to do...I feel so...so...helpless. And I can't get how he could act like that toward you. He knows better.' He murmured into my hair.

'I know' I agreed, sniffling. 'It's like Brett is this totally different person, a person that we don't know as well as we think we do. He was so angry, Bos, that for a split second I thought he might actually hit me.' I shuddered, just thinking about the anger that he had displayed to me.

I pulled back and looked him in the eye. 'Do you think he'd ever lay a hand on a woman?'

He sucked in his breath and looked at me with hurt eyes. 'I'd like to say no...but after what you told me...I can't say anymore. We have to remember that the way_ we_ know Brett isn't necessarily the

person he actually is when he isn't around us. To tell you the truth, this is something I'd expect to find in Mike...not Brett.'

'In Mikey?'

'It isn't something that I ever gave real thought to...but you know Mike. He's arrogant and he's not respectful toward women. You've seen the way he acts, Faith, he's a womanizer...and between the two, I would have guessed that Mike would be the nasty one. It's hard to think about your kids being that way, but sometimes you gotta open your eyes. Parents are famous for keeping blinders on.' He said wisely.

And I knew it was true. Although I didn't like discussing which son I thought may be the one to ever hit a woman. It was such a hard topic to uncover.

'What are we gonna do?' I asked brokenly, looking at him for the answer.

'I don't know...I just don't know.' He mumbled, looking as lost as I felt.

He pulled away from me and stood up and walked around to his side of the bed and pulled the covers down.

'What are you doing?'

'Lay down with me. Take a nap with me.' He said in all seriousness.

I looked at my watch. 'It's only nine o'clock and Sasha's coming over for lunch.'

He looked down at the floor and closed his eyes and then opened them again, and gave me a pleading look

'I want to hold my wife for a while and forget what shitty things are going on. I want to feel my arms around you and I want to forget for just one minute that our lives are turning upside down. Please, Faith.' He said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He looked so lost, I couldn't say no.

I didn't want to say no. I needed to be close to him.

We got into bed and pulled the blankets around us. He laid on his back, his arm around me, while I laid my head on his chest. I closed my eyes and just concentrated on the smell of him. I loved the way he smelled. Even when we were partners I could never get over how good he always smelled, like old spice and cinnamon chewing gum. It was overwhelming by times. All I had to do was smell cinnamon or that cologne and I would automatically think of Bosco. Think about being in bed with Bosco.

Neither of us said anything for the longest time, we just held each other. Every once in a while I would feel him tighten his hold on me, as if he were afraid I would disappear if he didn't. He stroked my hair with his free arm and kissed the top of my head tenderly.

'Remember when Mike got his first bike?' He asked softly.

'Ya. I remember how mad Brett was when he got Mikey's old trike.' I said, smiling faintly.

'He was so proud of that bike...he didn't even want to come in for supper, he was scared that someone would steal it.' He chuckled at the memory. He rolled over and faced me and rested his hand on my hip.

'Ahhh Faith, how come our kids grew up so fast?' He asked, searching for me to tell him something to make him, and me, feel better.

That it didn't know. One day we were going to the grocery store to buy cans of formula, the next we were taking our kids to kindergarten and then to the prom. Life seemed to get more complicated the older we got.

'I should have done more for them...I should have been better...' He muttered.

I reached out my hand and caressed his cheek lovingly. 'You're a good man, Maurice Boscorelli, and one hell of a damn good father. Don't ever forget that. We did the best we could.'

Another tear escaped from my eye as I looked at the man whom I loved so very much, hurting because he was, again, blaming himself for his children's mistakes.

Tears sprang to his eyes, shiny and wet, but he blinked them back and instead, he leaned in and kissed me softly.

Suddenly, nothing was more important to me than being as close to him as physically possible. What started out as a soft kiss turned into a blur of passion that was hot and demanding. I needed him to touch me everywhere, to make my body sing, to whisper words of love and tenderness. He made me feel alive, loved and cherished just with a touch of his hand. We went higher and higher until we had lost ourselves in each other, wet and slick with sweat and when we reached our climax simultaneously, I felt a feeling of love so strong it could not be broken.

When we were both spent, we lay with our fingers entwined and enjoyed our precious time together.

I knew that no matter what happened in my life, as long as I had Bosco I would make it.

The ringing of the doorbell snapped us out of our reverie. 'Don't get up...just let whoever it is come back later.' Bosco murmured, very content to stay in bed and be cozy.

I leaned in and kissed him and rumpled his dark hair with my hand. 'It's Sasha..I have to let her in. I invited her for dinner.'

He lifted his head from the pillow and glanced at the clock on the night side table. ' It's only eleven o'clock. Isn't she early?'

'Na. She's really upset and probably just wanted to talk.' I said as I scooted out of bed and picked my pajamas up off of the floor.

I got dressed and ran down the stairs as fast as I could, thinking that Sasha might be a little annoyed for having to stand out in the cold for so long.

The door bell rang again. 'I'm comin, I'm comin'. I grumbled, as I approached the door.

I snapped the lock back and swung the door open but was totally surprised when I saw who was standing on the other side.

It was Carmelle Sambrooke. How could I have forgotten about her?


	11. Cat Calls

I stood in the doorway, quite shocked to see her standing there, looking so young and pretty and fresh. I could not disguise the look of surprise that had embedded itself on my face. I had every intention of asking her in, but couldn't form the words. I stood there gaping stupidly.

She was almost as tell as Mikey and that meant she was just about six feet. She wore a dark brown corduroy jacket that reached her tiny waist, with jeans and black boots with pointy toes. She had a beautiful blue and pink knitted scarf around her delicate neck and a matching knitted cap that fit snugly around her long dark hair. She had dark eyeshadow on that made her eyes look smokey and alluring and shiny lip gloss on her full, pouty lips. She was absolutely breathtaking. I could see why my son was so taken with her.

' Hi Mrs. Boscorelli. I'm Carmelle. We met at your husband's birthday party.' She said pleasantly, giving me a wide smile that showed off her perfectly spaced teeth to perfection.

I regained my composure and smiled back at her. ' Hi, I'm sorry...I was expecting someone else to be at the door...' I said apologetically, looking down at my old pajamas and suddenly wishing I had gotten dressed and had a shower. I felt like an old hag next to her.

' Oh, that's ok. I just came to drop off your tickets.' She said as she reached into her coat pocket and produced an envelope and handed it to me.

' My tickets?'

' The tickets to the policeman's ball next week. Mike asked me to drop them off because he's in training this week. First Aid and Whmis.'

I had totally forgotten about the policeman's ball that was being held at our old precinct. Bosco and I had been invited every year and had never missed one. It was a fabulous time and we got to see most of the men and woman we had worked with, including Sully and Brendan Finney and, of course, our old Captain Swersky. I had been really excited about going but it had slipped my mind during our current situation.

" Oh, thanks. I forgot about that.' I said, taking them from her hand. ' Would you like to come in for a cup of tea or something?'

She smiled at me again and it was such a lovely smile, I couldn't help but like her just a little.

' Sure. I'd love to.'

I held the door open for her and she stepped inside, bringing with her the fresh scent of her perfume. It smelled oriental and musky but pleasant, none the less.

' You have a beautiful house.' She exclaimed as she pulled down the zipper of her long boots and put them neatly aside.

' Thank you.'

She took off her jacket and hat and hung them up neatly on the hall tree and stepped into the hall. She walked directly over to the decorative table that Bosco had made me one year that held different nicknacks and pictures and examined each one. She ran her perfectly manicured fingers over the polished wood admiringly.

' This is a beautiful piece. Where did you get it?'

' Bosco...my husband...made it.' I said proudly. ' He goes through 'wood' phases and makes all kinds of wonderful things.'

It was true. Bosco had made quite a few of the pieces that were in our home. He had made the hallway table, which really wasn't a table, but more like half a table, for me two years ago because he knew how much I liked to display pictures and collectibles. He was very talented and did an amazing job on everything he made. This piece was done in a honey colored wood that he had stained and coated with a shiny shellac to make it look expensive and posh.

' He did a great job'. She commented lightly.

' Come right this way.' I said, indicating that she follow me to the kitchen. Along the way she stopped every few feet to look at the pictures that hung on the walls.

The entire length of the hallway was filled with framed pictures, ranging in different sizes. My white walls were full of memories and times that I loved to look at each and every day. There was hardly any wall left and I guessed that there were about two hundred pictures hung.

Lovely photographs of all my children, from birth and their younger years, hung up perfectly to give me and anyone else who looked pleasure. Emily and Charlie had a special spot in the middle of the hall where I had hung about twenty pictures of them in various stages of development, until their death. Pictures of Bosco and I in uniform and in our old patrol car, 55-David. Different events, birthday parties and graduation memories, all hung with great care. We even had lots of pictures of Sasha and Ty and their kids over the years. I was very proud of my wall of memories.

' I've never seen so many pictures at once!' She exclaimed, impressed by what she saw.

I laughed over my shoulder.' Ya. I really have a passion for them. I always wanted to take photography when I was younger.' I added, not really knowing why I was opening up to this woman, except that maybe I was nervous.

She came into the kitchen behind me and looked around the room appreciatively. When we had redisigned Rose's home, the home Bosco grew up in, I knew I wanted a huge kitchen with lots of cubbord space. Bosco and Ty had redone the entire room and put in huge bay windows by the sink that allowed the sun to shine directly in and warm up the room. It gave it a very homey and bright appearance. I had one full wall of cherry wood cupboards with shiny gold handles for the doors, that ended with a stainless steel fridge. I also had a stainless steel microwave and dishwasher. It had cost a small fortune but we had done it anyway. In the middle of our kitchen was a huge cherry wood island with six stools, three on each side. It wasn't really needed, since we had the table, but it made the enourmous room look a little fuller. At the very back of the room, sat our cherry wood table that was big enough to fit ten people. It was a beautiful and classy table, but it was hard to keep the finger smudges off of it. I always kept a burgundy table runner on it with three candles, spaced nicely. I was very proud of my kitchen and it showed.

Carmelle pulled out one of the stools and sat down. ' This is utterly amazing, Mrs. Boscorelli! You should be in the decorating business!'

Despite myself, I was beginning to like this woman. I knew it was probably because she was praising me up and down for my choices in decorating, but there was a very sincere way about her that was refreshing.

I turned on the tap and filled up my tea kettle and then walked over to the stove. " Thanks. I really do love to decorate. Oh, and by the way, call me Faith. Mrs. Boscorelli makes me sound so old.' I said, smiling at her.

' Faith it is then.' She said and followed it with a melodious laugh.

When our tea was ready I brought two steaming mugs over to the island and sat down across from her. She began to tell me her story. She was an only child and had grown up in Queens. By the time she was twelve she had landed a modeling contract with 'Loreal' and had traveled around the world. By nine-teen she was dried up and very much needing of some time off. Between catching planes and meeting people and partying, she was starting to burn out. The life of a model, while glamorous by times, was very demanding. There was always someone else who was prettier and skinnier who was just waiting for their chance to knock you off the block.

In that hour, I learned that she was not only beautiful, but also very smart. She had gone to Yale University for four years and had got her degree in Business. She now worked as a part time trader for the prestigious company in Manhattan, Bonsai, which I also found out, her grandfather and father owned.

She talked happily about her family, revealing that her mother had died when she was only twenty from lung cancer and Carmelle talked about how much she missed her. Being an only child, once her mother was gone, there was no other woman to talk to and confide in. She talked about her dreams of one day getting married and having a big family. I wondered if she thought she could tame my son, but I didn't say anything. Toward the end of our conversation I did get up the courage to ask her what was going on.

' So, Carmelle...you and my son...how long have you been together?'

'About two months or so. We met at Haggerty's. I was having lunch with my girlfriend and he and his partner came in during their break.' She revealed dreamily. From the way she spoke about him, I knew she was smitten.

' He came and picked me up that very night and took me out for dinner at LaGrada, in the Village'. She continued. ' He even brought me flowers and everything. He is so wonderful and romantic. You have raised your son well, Faith'. She said, blushing a tiny bit.

A tiny hurt passed through my heart, knowing that Mike hadn't even broke up with Kath two months ago. He had made sure he had another woman waiting in the wings before he left her.

' You've been together for two months?' I asked, hoping she wouldn't see the surprise on my face.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering. ' Yes. That day at Haggerty's, after his partner went outside, he came over and asked me out to dinner. I had never laid eyes on him before but he told me he had to take me out, that he wouldn't take no for an answer...and I said yes. We've been together ever since.'

I bet he waited until Kath left before going over and speaking to Carmelle! What a rogue! I felt angry at my son's lack of respect for Kath and now, for Carmelle. Oh, if she only knew my son half as well as she thought she did, she might have changed her mind, I thought to myself.

' Well, he does have a way with women.' I said lightly. ' He's just like his father that way. Before Bosco and I got together we were partners at the same precinct that Mikey works at.'

Her eyes brightened. ' Really? I didn't know that. I mean, Mike told me you were both police officers but he didn't tell me that you were partners.'

I laughed at her exuberance ' We were partners from day one and we stayed that way until we retired.'

By this time she had finished her tea and was sitting with her chin in her hands, her dainty elbows supporting her arms, listening to me in fascination. Every once in a while she would break out in a tiny peal of laughter. She really was quite delightful and fun to be around. She was very relaxed with me and I with her.

'So, was your husband as wild as Mike was when he was young?' She questioned.

' Wild? I'd say so. There wasn't a woman around that didn't stare at him with lust in her eyes. They still look at him that way.' I laughed at the memory of the way Bosco used to be.

' I know that Mike has always been a lady's man, but I'd like to think that he's settling down now. I know his reputation for playing around.' She confided, looking down at her mug. Her long hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear.

' Mike has always been independent, Carmelle, and he likes his freedom. I hope you don't mind me saying'. I added quickly. ' But I'd like to believe that he will settle down some time soon.' I offered..

How could I tell her what I suspected? Could I betray my son by telling this beautiful young lady that he would most likely use her and discard her the way he had Kath? It was my job to remain impartial and to not stick my nose where it didn't belong, and that was going to be very hard for me to do...but I knew that I needed to give Mikey the benefit of the doubt. Who was I to say that he would never settle down?

Before I could say another word, the doorbell rang. ' Oh, that's my friend Sasha. I'll be right back.' I said, excusing myself to go to the door.

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I walked down to the door. It was a quarter after twelve. I had completely forgotten to start lunch for Sasha and myself, and now, Carmelle, if she wanted to stay.

I swung the door open and to my surprise and dismay, it wasn't Sasha. It was Kath!

She stood on the steps, dressed in an old pair of gym pants and a ratty hooded sweatshirt. Her hair was back in a ponytail and she had no make up on. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy and I could tell that she had been crying. She, too, had on the uniform of the depressed.

She couldn't come in! She just couldn't, but what was I supposed to tell her? The panic I felt right then was monumental. I stood there with my mouth gaping open, frantically trying to think of something to say.

' I...uh...'

' Oh, Faith, I'm so glad you're home!' She cried, when she saw me.

' Kath...how are you?' I asked, sounding very stupid. She was heart broken and had obviously come for some kind of comfort.

She started to cry and buried her face into her hands. ' I just need to talk to someone. I'll just come in for a minute.' She said, sounding desperate. ' Please, Faith. I need to talk to you, there's no one else.'

' Uh...Kath...this isn't a good time...I'm really sorry...but...can we do this later?' I cringed, as I looked at her. I couldn't help it, I felt like a big jerk, and I really was sorry about what had happened between her and Mikey, but was so afraid that she would discover Carmelle and I felt a tiny bit guilty for befriending someone new when Kath's pain was so fresh.

' Faith, you need to listen to me, I have to talk to you. I'm so sorry, but it can't wait.'

Before I could utter another word, she walked past me into the house and started down the hall toward the kitchen, not even taking off her sneakers.

' Kath! Wait! Don't go in there' I called out desperately, running to try and get to her before she saw the 'other woman'. I went as fast as I could, but banged into the hall table and stubbed my big toe.

' Dammit!' I growled, jumping up and down on one foot, while trying to continue my trek to what I knew was going to be one hell of a confrontation. 'Bosco!' I called over my shoulder.

'Bosco, get down here now!' I yelled again. ' Kath! Wait'.

She didn't stop, however, and proceeded on. ' Kath, please wait a minute...there's someone...' I called, as I ran down the hall.

I knew instinctively that this was not going to be pretty. Kath was quite similar in temperament to Mikey. She could lose it faster than he could, and that was the truth. She was ruthless in her temper and even worse with her words. She could be sweet and charming when she wanted to be, but if you got on her wrong side, it could be nasty. I knew. I'd seen it.

One time she and Mikey were out at Haggerty's and they were drinking quite heavily. They were a very social pair, and as long as she could put up with the drinking, there was no problem with him. She didn't start out as a drinker, but over time she ended up being able handle a lot of alcohol. She could drink as much as he could, which bothered me, but there wasn't anything I could do about it...and they ended up having an argument with some firefighters from Chelsey who were down for the weekend at a conference with Camelot's men. Bosco, Ty, Sasha and I had gone out to a movie and decided to stop of for a beer on our way home. We had just greeted everyone and sat down at our table, when a string of loud curses reached our ears. I looked over at Mikey's table and saw Kath, nose to nose with one of the firefighters pickups.

Now, I was used to hearing swear words, I was a cop for twenty-five years, so I know the lingo and all that goes with it...and I had two sons...but this girl could curse worse than a drunken sailor on a Saturday night! I had never heard such language and was absolutely shocked to hear my Kath talking like that.

Apparently, this bar-fly had insulted Kath and wasn't about to apologize for it either. The two woman were standing beside the table, mouthing off at one another and to make matters worse, no one stopped them. The men sat at the table and cheered Kath on, laughing and getting a real kick out of the display they were making. A few even whistled.

Bar-fly didn't like what she was hearing, and no doubt, she was embarrassed by Kath's stinging words, so she threw what was left of her beer in Kath's face.

That was her first mistake.

Her second mistake was laughing after she did it. I saw Kath's eyes grow huge and wild and so help me, Kath grabbed a handful of that poor woman's long blond hair and gave it a yank. Next, she threw bar-fly down on the floor and landed at least two punches to the face before Mikey and Brendan Finney's son, Liam, pulled her away.

Kath was screaming and flailing about, like someone who was taking a seizure. It took both Mikey and Liam to hold her down and to get her outside. Of course, the other woman had a broken nose and was going to have one hell of a black eye or two, and she looked awful. Some of the other guys helped her clean up and get her into a cab. And that was the end of it, but after that, Kath's nickname became ' slugger'.

Oh, I didn't know what I was in for when I reached the end of the hall, but I knew I'd soon find out. I hoped that Bosco had heard me and was on his way down stairs, for I had the feeling that I was going to need help.

Breathless, I rushed into the kitchen, my adrenaline pumping my heart faster and faster.

' YOU!' Came Kath's shrill voice, directed at Carmelle who was still seated on the stool.

She turned and looked at me accusingly, hurt and more anger than I'd ever seen written across her usually lovely face.

' Kath, I...'

Her eyes went wild and she had that same look that I'd seen before. Her face had turned an unhealthy shade of red and she was breathing heavily.

' How could you have her in this house? How could you do that to me? That little slut ruined everything that was precious to me!' She yelled at me.

And then she turned to Carmelle and looked her up and down distainfully. ' YOU SLUT! How DARE you come in here and ruin what Mike and I had! HOW DARE YOU!' She screamed, like a woman quite out of control.

It was apparent to me that Carmelle had never known of Kath's existence as Mike's lover before this very moment. She sat up strait, confusion written over her delicate features. She looked at me for direction, seemingly not knowing what to say or where to start. When I didn't say anything, Carmelle sat up straighter, I thought, and looked Kath in the eye.

' I...I'm...sorry...I don't know what you're talking about.' She said softly, but not in a sorry way. She said it in such a way that I understood that she pitied Kath, even though she hadn't known who she was until now.

That enraged Kath even more. ' You don't know what I'm talking about? I know who you are! I know your kind!' She spat, pointing her finger at Carmelle.

' My kind?' Carmelle asked, with a growing amount of confidence. She was not the kind of woman to be intimidated. She picked up her mug and got off the stool and set it on the sink and didn't bat an eye.

' YES! SLUT! YOUR KIND!'

' That's enough, Kath!' I hissed savagely.

Carmelle picked a piece of lint off of her blue turtleneck sweater and let it drop to the floor before replying.

' Thank you for you kind words. You must be Mike's partner. Nice to meet you.' She said with complete calmness and control. She refused to be bullied.

Kath didn't know what to say and neither did I. Bosco came strolling into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me with a horrified expression on his face. He was shocked to see both of Mike's woman standing in our kitchen.

' WHOA! What's going on ladies?' He yelled, making the referee sign with his hand.

No one uttered a sound. He looked from one to the other and then back to me. I shook my head.

' This SLUT decided to come over and get friendly with Faith and I won't have it! I won't have it!' Kath raged.

' I think you'd better leave, Kath.' He said, trying to control his temper. ' And if I ever hear you talking like that in my house again, it will be the last time.' He added.

Kath was terrible in her anger, and we all knew it. Carmelle interrupted the display and started to walk toward the door.

' I think I'll go. Thanks for the tea and the conversation, Faith. I enjoyed your company. Mr. Boscorelli, nice to see you again'. She said diplomatically and walked away from the lunicy.

'Bosco, can you walk her out?' I asked quietly. He nodded and left the room, but not before he cast Kath a scathing glance over his shoulder.

Now that we were alone, Kath seemed to have lost her tough demeanor and reverted back to crying. I took one step toward her and pointed my finger.

' If you ever talk to me like that again, I will kick your ass! Do you hear me! How dare you come into my house and disrespect me and my guest like this!' I spat at her.

I was really angry and I had no intention of listening to what she had to say. I felt sorry for her because she was so upset, but she had crossed the line. Big time. There was no going back from that.

She hung her head and really bawled. 'I'm sorry, but I can't stand to see her! Did you know that Mike was seeing her while he was with me?'

I didn't answer.

' Did you?' She asked again.

' Not until this morning. I had no idea.' I snapped. 'But that doesn't excuse your behaviour, Kath. I'm really disappointed in you. No. I'm not disappointed. I'm disgusted! Now, I really think you should leave.'

' I can't. We have to talk.' She said.

' I don't want to talk to you when you're acting like this.'

Why couldn't see understand? Was it that hard to comprehend? I crossed my arms over my breasts and looked at her expectantly.

' Well?' I asked.

' I'm pregnant, Faith. I'm going to have your son's baby.'


	12. Please, God

I felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of my lungs and it was difficult to breathe. My mouth gaped open and I'm sure I was on the verge of fainting. Pregnant? Kath was pregnant?

I guided myself to the nearest stool, where I had sat not twenty minutes before, and plunked down. I started to shake uncontrollably. This had come at the most inopportune time and I didn't know what to say.

'Faith?'

I looked up at her and shook my head. My mouth felt dry and sticky. I swallowed over and over again in an attempt to dislodge the lump in my throat that threatened to make me cry.

Kath sat across from me, tears streaming down her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away. She looked like a lost little girl who needed her mother to make everything better. She seemed smaller to me with her oversized sweatshirt and baggy gym pants and for the first time in weeks, I looked at her, really looked at her. She was pale and it looked like she had lost a great deal of weight, although I couldn't say for sure because of her outfit. Her eyes had dark circles under them and it appeared that she hadn't slept for quite some time.

I felt a strange sense of guilt twinge in my heart, for I had escentially ignored her for the past few weeks, not realizing the prediciment she was in. I thought back and realized that she had called me at least twice and I had been too busy to call her back, thinking that there would always be another time. Now, it was too late. I felt tears of sadness come to my eyes, but I refused to let even one drop.

But this was not the time to be weak, I thought to myself. I needed to get to the bottom of this situation and I realized that she would be the one to tell me what I needed to know. In a way, this opportunity for me to speak with her and get her side of the story might have been the only chance to get at the truth. Mikey certainly wasn't going to tell me the full version of what went on between them.

'Faith?'

'How far? I mean how far along are you?'

'Three months.' came her barely audible reply.

Oh my goodness. Three months. Three months! And Mikey had been with Carmelle for two of those months. And she knew. She knew all along that he was seeing someone else. At that moment I felt so sorry for Kath. She had done her best to make an honest man out of my son and had been rewarded with a child and he had left her for someone else.

Oh, the hurt that she must have felt would have been something awful and for her to come to me for comfort and support and find the other woman in my kitchen, must have been devastating. If I put myself in her shoes would I have been as nasty to Carmelle as she had been? I didn't need to answer myself. I would have been, no doubt about it.

I felt as though I were in a tug of war, with Kath on one side and Carmelle on the other. They were both lovely women, but had made the mistake of falling in love with a man who neither respected them or, as far as I could tell, really gave a damn about their feelings. He had lied to both of them in different ways, but he hadn't been truthful and I knew what lies could do to a person.. Lies were the foundation for mistrust and anger. They could seem like a small thing when they were told to the unsuspecting person, but when they festered and were discovered, they could be devastating.

And now, with Christmas come and gone, poor Kath had to endure the holidays scared and alone. I hadn't even given a thought as to how she had been fairing for those days, as I had been to busy thinking about Brett and Carly.

I reached out and took her small hand into mine and squeezed it. I had no room for anger now, not now when she was so hurt and alone. 'I'm so sorry, Kath. I feel so bad for what has happened. Please forgive me for not realizing how hurt you were.' I said sincerely.

She smiled bitterly and this time reached up and wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand.

'I never thought that this would be happening to me. I thought that he was ready to settle down and I knew in the back of my mind that something wasn't right...but I told myself that he loved me.' She said, rolling her eyes at the fact that she had believed him.

'He did love you, Kath. He just...he...he doesn't know how...he doesn't know...' I flailed around trying to find the words to defend the son I was totally disgusted with, and failed.

'He doesn't know what he wants.' She finished for me.

'Does he know? About the baby?' I asked softly.

She nodded and looked away. She was trying hard not to cry again, and the effort it took was literally making her slender shoulders shake.

'What did he say?' I asked in a whisper. I was so terribly afraid of the answer.

She turned back to me, this time, anger lit up her face. 'You want the un-rated version or the one I tell everyone else?'

My eyes widened in expectation. 'There's an un-rated version?'

'Un-rated version of what?' A deep gravely voice from behind me boomed.

I turned around and saw Bosco standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. I didn't know how long he had been standing there, but it was clear that he was confused. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and seemed on the edge of screaming. He was wound up and I was afraid that he would snap completely if there was much more drama today.

'I don't know what the hell is going on here, but one thing is for sure.' He said nastily, walking forward and looking directly at Kath. She seemed to shrink down on her stood, afraid of Bosco's words.

'Bosco...'

He ignored me and swung out one of the bar stools and sat down and pierced Kath with one of his scathing glances. He leaned forward and gritted his teeth and pointed his finger at her.

'Bosco...just listen.' I grabbed his arm and put it down and held his hand tightly in mine. I looked him in the eye and spoke softly. 'Something has happened and Kath has just told me some news. She's sorry for the way she behaved and when you realize what it is, you'll understand.'

'But..._Faith.' _He cocked his head to the side and gave me a piercing glance. He said this between clenched teeth, for he was trying to control his temper in front of our guest. 'I don't like the way she talked to you and I think...'

'Don't think. Just listen.' I said a little more harshly than I intended. I made a face at him to let him know he had to be quiet.

He closed his eyes and pursed his lips together. He didn't like being chastised in front of anyone, and I couldn't blame him, but I needed to defuse the situation before he said anything else.

'Fine.' He said staunchily, looking up at Kath and waiting for her to speak. She looked at me nervously and began to chew on her lip.

'Well?' He asked irritably, looking from her and then to me. 'What's the news? Another baby on the way perhaps?' He said sarcastically, looking at me and rolling his eyes.

Silence.

I cleared my throat and smiled weakly. He looked at me and then her and back to me in a matter of seconds, then groaned.

'You _can't _be serious!' He raised his hands and shouted, looking around the room, angry and shocked. He stood up and began to pace around the kitchen, his hand over his mouth, as if to keep any unwanted words from spilling out. He did that when he was so shocked or angry, that he didn't trust himself to speak.

The red colored t-shirt he had on seemed to be quite comparable to the color in his face. He jammed his hands in the back of his jeans and stalked around the kitchen grumbling inaudibly.

'How did this happen?'

Kath raised an eyebrow, as did I.

'No! I mean when did this happen? Does he know? What did he say?' He fired at her.

Kath gulped and looked toward the ceiling, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. Bosco walked back over to the island and sat down. He began to drum his finger tips on the top. Tap, tap, tap.

'Cut it out.' I snapped at him, a little fed up from his histrionics. He looked over at me and gave _me_ a look that clearly meant that _I _should be quiet.

Kath looked at us, her huge blue eyes watery. ' Yes, he knows and I'm three months along...just starting to get over the morning sickness bit...' She smiled faintly and then trailed off.

Bosco looked at me with a look that said he'd be talking to his son as soon as he got the chance...and I also knew from that look that it wasn't going to be a nice father and son chat. Mike had really screwed up this time and I could tell that Bosco was very disappointed.

He turned his attention back to her and spoke in a softer, kinder way. 'Have you talked about the arrangements and stuff? Are you going to share custody of it? Do you think that you guys might get back together and work it out...' He stopped, aware of how hurtful his comment must of been. Mike was with Carmelle now and it didn't look like he wanted Kath anymore.

'I'm sorry.' He continued, despite the tears that were now sliding down her pale cheeks. 'This is such a shock...I don't know what I should say to you, Kath.' He looked at me for guidance.

I was totally lost. Here we were, in the middle of the day and we had just found out, again, that we were going to be grandparents. This was totally different from how it had been when we found out that Emma was pregnant. Their baby was planned. They were in love and married. To them, it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them and to us, it was just plain wonderful. But this, this was shocking and sordid and nasty. There was so much happening that I felt as though I were on a roller coaster and I had no time to think about, much less accept, the new information that was being thrust upon me. I was going over one giant hill after another and was left feeling confused and sick. But that probably didn't even compare to what Kath or Brett or Carly were feeling. How did life ever get so confusing?

'I think what Bosco is trying to say is that we are just so surprised by this news...it's hard to know what to say...what I mean...what we mean...is that we'll be here for you, no matter what. You can still come to us whenever you need us and I'm sure that Mike will help out and...'

'No, he won't.'

'What do you mean?'

She shook her head and sighed. 'He doesn't want to help. He doesn't want this baby at all.'

Bosco narrowed his eyes. 'What do you mean? He told you that?'

She seemed scared to answer the question and looked down at her hands.

'Did he?' He asked again, a little more forcefully. He looked at me and shook his head. 'Did he tell you he didn't want the baby?'

'He demanded that I have an abortion. But I won't do it.' She said defiantly, lifting her chin.

My heart plunged. 'Oh, Kath! I'm so sorry, so sorry! I can't believe he told you to have an abortion! When I get my hands on him he's gonna wish he was never born!' I wailed, oblivious to what kind of impression I was making.

'Faith...' Bosco said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I flung is hand off of me and stood up and shoved the stool back under the island violently. I had had it!

I paced around, tugging the buttons of my pajamas. 'No! This isn't right! You know it isn't! Bosco, you go right down to that precinct and you tell him that he better get his ass over here pronto!' I yelled.

'Faith...I'

'Did you hear me?' I shrilled, when he didn't speak fast enough. It was his turn to calm me down, and boy, he had his work cut out for him!

I continued to pace around the kitchen and stopped at the sink to get a glass of water. I glanced out the window and saw a police cruiser speeding down our street, its blue and red lights flashing. It's siren blaring, an awful, mournful cry.

_Stop! Stop! Hear the wail! The Blue and Red are on your tail!_

'What the...' Bosco stood up and came to stand beside me, and peared out the window. The cruiser sped into our driveway and came to a screeching halt.

We looked at each other in confusion. What was happening? Kath, who had heard the siren as well as we had, stood up and joined us.

Seconds later I heard the front door open and the sound of heavy footsteps pounding down the hall. My heart started beating tripple time, as I waited.

Mike came running into the kitchen. He was dressed in uniform even though he had been participating in a training day. His hair stood on end, looking like he had received shock treatments and his eyes were wild. His piercing green eyes made him look dangerous and crazy as he skidded to a halt in front of us.

'Ma! You have to come quick! There's been an accident and you need to get to the hospital!'

He completely ignored Kath and his father and came over to me and took both of my hands into his and tried to tug me toward the door.

'What's happened?' I cried, terribly worried that Emma or Little Faith or Rob had been hurt.

'It's Sasha. She's been in an accident. I heard it at the station on the radio and came right over.' He said hurridly, still tugging on my arm.

'What? What happened?' I screamed at him. I looked at Bosco and Kath, who had twin expressions of shock and horror on their faces.

'Mike, when did this happen?' Bosco demanded, regaining his composure and walking over to me.

'About an hour ago. I called Ty on the way and he told me to get you right away and meet him there. It's pretty bad.' He revealed, his face stricken and gray.

_Please God, not Sasha, not my best friend._

'Where is she?'

'Emergency surgery. I can show you the way.'

It didn't seem real. I started to tremble and I felt as if I were in a horrible dream. Sasha? Hurt?

I don't remember going upstairs and getting dressed. I don't remember the ride to the hospital or even how I got inside. All I remember is the sound of the siren, blaring over and over and over, warning us to hurry, to get to Sasha.

_Please God, not Sasha, not my best friend._

Bosco grabbed my hand and pulled me into a run. We ran down hallways and corridors, the people we passed a blur, their faces looking strangely large and out of focus. The sounds of the hospital staff and crying babies, the stench of powerful cleaning agents and sterilizers bombarded my senses as we hurried along.

_Please God, not Sasha, not my best friend._

I tried to keep up the pace but tripped over my bootlace and came crashing down, my face connecting with the cold, hard floor. Bosco stopped and picked me up. My nose was bleeding and my eyes stung from the force of the fall. Totally oblivious to anything else, we continued our race against time to get to our destination.

_Please God..._

Finally, we rounded the corner and entered the emergency area. We skidded to a stop at the nurses desk.

'We're here to see Sasha Davis.' Bosco told the nurse breathlessly.

She was a woman who was probably in her late forties, early fifties, with short gray hair that stuck up on end. She was short and stout with large rolling pin arms. Her face was red and puffy and there was not one bit of kindness or sympathy in her ugly face. She looked at me in surprise and disgust at the blood running down my face. I wiped it off with the sleeve of my coat.

'Who?' She snapped, not taking her eyes off me.

'Sasha Davis...she just came in from a car accident.' Bosco said impatiently. He held onto the arm of my jacket, supporting my shaking legs.

She gazed down at her clip board and slowly, so slowly, began to flip through the pages. She was wasting time!

'WHERE IS SHE!' I screamed at the old witch.

She recoiled as though I had slapped her, her rubbery lips pressed together. 'I certainly do not have to listen to this...'

I broke lose from Bosco's hold and ran around the desk and peered into the closest rooms. I ran from one to the other, sticking my head in, calling her name. 'Sasha! Sasha!'

'Someone get the orderlies!' I heard a voice yell.

'Faith! Faith!' Bosco yelled.

It all seemed like static to me, as I continued my search like a wild woman, madly dashing in a tear to find my friend.

_Please God..._

And that's when I collided with Ty Davis. He had come out of room 109, the number of that room would haunt me until the day I died. 109.

Upon seeing me, he burst into tears, his tall frame shaking violently. He reached out to embrace me and I backed away, like an animal about to be caged.

_Please..._

'No...no...no...!' I screamed.

'It's too late. She's gone.' He cried, still holding his giant arms out toward me.

'Noooooooooo!' I screamed again, shaking my head refusing to believe him.

That was the last thing I remember before my eyes shut and I felt myself dropping down, down into the darkness.


	13. Goodbye

**Goodbye, Old Friend**

_How do you say goodbye?_

_How do you understand forever?_

_I can't make me love you any less_

_In my mind we'll always be together._

_We laughed, we cried._

_We shed a million tears_

_that left behind part of ourselves._

_And you'll always have me_

_to lean on, in love, in life._

_In death._

How do you say goodbye to a friend? A family member? A love? How do you understand the pain that rages through you like a fire, uncontrolled? Burning, burning, burning, the hot tears scalding your cheeks and your eyes as they seek their release because keeping them inside would mean the end of you.

Do you tell yourself that it will be alright...that things will get better in time? Or do you shut everyone out and sink into the deepest part of yourself and silently scream for what you had, what you were? Or do you shake your balled up fist at the sky and scream in anger...hoping, wishing, praying that this was just a bad dream...a bad dream. The pain so heavy that you can't breathe and don't want to.

All of these things ran through my mind as I prepared to bury my best friend.

My chest felt like a heavy chunk of lead, my mind hazy and unfocused, my limbs tired and weak. I stood in my bathroom trying to get ready for what I could only describe as heart wrenching, dressed in my mourning clothes, which consisted of a long black ankle length dress with black stockings and black boots. I brushed my long hair over and over again, sometimes forgetting for a second what I was preparing myself for and then, inevitably, the memories came rushing back and stabbed me in the heart and reminded me that Sasha was really gone.

My mind was a blank sheet as I stood up at the podium and read a ullage in Sasha's memory. I couldn't cry anymore, only read the words that seemed so pitiful and not enough to describe the woman that she was, the love that she had or the life that she had lead.

I decided to wear my hair down. That way during the funeral I could hide my face and my tears with my protective barrier. Long hair was such a blessing by times because it could hide your face, and thus, hide you from the people you didn't want to see, almost like you were alone.

I didn't bother to put on any makeup, just a touch of lip gloss for my chapped lips. I didn't care how I looked today. What did it matter when you were burying someone you loved?

When I sat back down beside Bosco and felt his strong hand holding mine, I finally let myself think about the turn of events that had lead to my finding out who the true father of Carly's baby was. I know I was still in shock the morning of her funeral, because I hadn't told a single soul about the terrible secret I had discovered the night before at the wake.

It seemed to me that my life, as I knew it, was over. I had found out so many things over the past few days that had threatened my family relationships and made me question who and what we were. How could you say you knew someone so well? Do we really ever know someone enough to be able to say what they would or would not do?

All my life, it seemed, I had lost my loved ones to death. Greedy death, that knew no right from wrong, who never cared who he took or when. No, death did not pick favorites, he came like a thief in the night and robbed us of all things precious. Emily, Charlie, my unborn baby from Bosco, Rose, Mikey, and now, Sasha. All of their faces loomed before me, their expressions grim, as though they knew how hard it was to lose someone you love.

After the hospital, we had taken Ty home because Bosco was afraid that he'd get himself into an accident. Bosco, by default, had become the strong one, for both Ty and I were far too emotional to talk, much less drive or have a clear thought. I sat in back with him and we clung to each other, crying openly. Bosco concentrated on driving, but every once in a while he would reach up and wipe a tear from his eye and then grip the steering wheel again, so hard his knuckles turned white.

Ty had gone strait up to his room when we got there and left it to us to call the other family members. He had called both Tyrone and Carly from the hospital and, as expected, both were devastated and shocked. Carly was going to be on the next flight from Boston and would arrive about six p.m. Tyrone and Tania would be over as soon as they could get Elijah to Tania's mothers house.

I sat down on the couch and rocked back and forth. I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back the urge to throw up. Bosco was in the kitchen making arrangements and calling people that he knew Ty didn't want to deal with right away.

I couldn't sit still so I went into the kitchen and leaned my tired frame against the doorway. Bosco was back to, talking softly to someone on the other end of the phone, but his shoulders were shaking and his voice was strange and thick. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes as I listened to him. He was sweating profusely, I could tell, because the back of his red t-shirt was soaked He reached up and wiped his brow with one arm.

'Yes. I know...no...it's going to be closed casket...'

Again I had to suppress the urge to throw up. Closed casket because there was nothing left...

'I appreciate that...yes I think that would be very kind of you...but I'll see what Ty says.' He said, nodding his head.

He turned around grabbed a pen and started scribbling something on a napkin, his eyes meeting mine and telling me to stay where I was.

'Thank you again. Goodbye.'

He hung up the phone and walked over to me and grabbed me in a big hug. I started to cry again and bowed my head into his strong shoulder. He kissed my hair and rubbed small circles on my back.

'Are you gonna be ok?'

'No. How can I ever be okay again, Bosco?'

'You have to be strong...for everyone. Carly's gonna be here soon and Tyrone will be too...come on, you need to lie down or something.' He said wisely.

I shook my head. 'No. I can't...I just can't right now...I'm not tired..'

Bosco put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back slightly, so he could look at me. His eyes were bloodshot and looked baggy. He looked dangerous and sullen, the news had left him as angry as I was inside, but he kept it buried deep.

'You need to take a breather and lie down because this is only gonna get worse. You need to rest and I won't tell you again.' He chastised, pressing his lips into a grim line. He was so worried about me that it made him annoyed and panicky when I wouldn't listen.

In the end, I did go lie down in the spare bedroom after Bosco gave me two gravol to help me sleep. I didn't realize I had been so tired and worn out. Carly had arrived along with her brother Tyrone and they had both gone directly upstairs to see their father.

Brett hadn't come, which surprised and angered me, for he had known Sasha from the time he had been born, but I didn't have time to dwell on it and was discreet enough not to ask Carly. Besides, the house had become overflowing with people and there was no time to think of anything else.

Neighbors and family members crowded into the kitchen, all eating from the buffet of food that had come pouring through the doors. It seemed that everyone covered their sorrow by cooking. Dozens of hot plates, rolls, deserts and veggie trays piled up on the counter only hours after Sasha's death.

We were all up late that night and Bosco and I didn't get home until 1:30 or so. The wake was set for the next evening, which was almost a relief, because there was so much to prepare and it was hard to find the energy. I threw myself into the preparations, wrote a speech for her ullage and made last minute calls to the church and florist. Bosco had helped Ty with the funeral arrangements, which I was grateful for. I couldn't bear to go and help pick out a casket.

When I look back, I can clearly see the events that lead up to the reason why my son had not attended the wake or the funeral. If I could have turned back the clock, I would have listened to every word, ever gesture or look that he made and maybe, I would have been more aware of his problems and could have found a way to help him.

It never occurred to me that Brett would have any reason to stay in Boston instead of flying home with Carly. In my mind, nothing was more serious than being there to say goodbye. I should have seen it in her eyes, in her smile, that faded sparkle that was once there, gone.

I look back now and wonder how I could have been so stupid as to not know the things that had gone on under my nose. To make matters worse, I had not seen the clues and I had not picked up on the subtle hints that I knew were there.

From the moment I saw Carly, I knew something had changed. She was devastated, as I expected her to be, but there was something else in those dark eyes that I hadn't seen before. Fear. It was a kind of nervousness that I had seen in many of the victims we dealt with on a regular basis. Not only was she afraid of something, she also tried to avoid me at any costs. Any time I made a move toward her, she would slip away into the bathroom or latch on to someone's arm and turn away from me.

Dressed in a black pant suite, she looked rather elegant and regal, but the slump in her shoulders gave away her sorrow, making her seem almost a child. Her eyes were puffy from long hours of crying and her face seemed like a piece of frail china, it was so tight and plastery looking.

The wake dragged on it seemed, for hours and hours, even though it was only from seven to ten. There had been at least five hundred people to greet, cheeks to kiss and hugs to give. Nearing the end, I felt as though I had been put through a mixer and stretched out flat and thin. I had nothing left to give, nothing left to say, no more words of comfort.

What happened next was the hand of fate taping me on the shoulder and telling me to go to the back room. It was if I felt cold wave on the back of my neck and I shuddered. Bosco looked over at me and asked me with his eyes if I was ok. I nodded at him, for I knew he was prepared to come over and see to me even though he was engaged in a conversation with one of Sasha's hysterical relatives and was trying to console her.

I walked to the back of the parlor and pushed open the swinging doors and walked down the long hallway toward the small kitchen that was reserved for family members only. I walked along like someone in a dream, my feet carrying me without my will, toward the back. I looked down at the cheap purple carpet beneath my feet and wondered why anyone would choose that color for a funeral home.

I was just about to enter through the doorway, when I heard a horse sobbing coming from within. Not wanting to interrupt someone's private moment, I stopped and stood still.

'He knows! He knows!' I heard a voice sob, a voice which was Carly Davis.

'Why did you tell him? Why didn't you just tell him it was his, then? Why go through all of this?' An angry male voice responded.

'I'm not like you! I can't let him think this baby is his when it's not!'

'Well, I hope you don't think I'm going to be responsible for this! How do I even know that you weren't sleeping with half of Boston anyway?'

A hard slap echoed loudly, which I suspected had met the face of the dirt-bag who had gotten her pregnant.

'I was not! How dare you say that to me! You, who hit on me every chance you got! You, who undressed me with your eyes for years and you only wanted me because someone else had me!'

'I was bored.'

'What!'

'I always wondered why you looked like underneath and now I do. I'm over it.'

'How much do you think he'll love you when he hears that you took advantage of me when I was drunk?'

The voice turned darker and more sinister. Oh, how I wished that he would speak up louder so I could tell who this mystery man was! I had to crane my neck to try and hear the rest of the conversation.

'I didn't do anything you didn't _beg _me to do. He won't believe you anyway. He hates you now, he told me so.'

'He does not!'

'I talked to him last night...he told me everything, how you begged him to not leave you, how you told him that you loved him...he told me everything.'

'Bastard!'

That part was shouted. I turned and frantically tried to find a spot where I could hide and saw the coatrack, heavy with coats and hats and ducked around in behind it.

A few seconds later Carly Davis came rushing out of that room, crying and pressing her hands over her mouth.

Another few seconds passed and then a tall young man stepped out. He fixed his tie and ran his hands down over his suit jacket and then back up to his hair, smoothing it down.

I could have died. It was my own son. Mike.


	14. Coping With Tragedy

I cannot describe accurately enough for my own good, or the good of the members of my family, how hard the days and weeks were after Sasha's death and our finding out that Mikey was the father of Carly's baby as well as Kath's. Both Bosco and myself were at a loss for words over how our eldest son could be so cruel, so roguish and unkind. We both walked around in a state of shock and anger, which was completely intensified by the hurt surrounding Sasha's untimely death.

It was hard for me to face up to the fact that my son was capable of such betrayal, and against his own brother! Bosco was outraged, although he didn't say anything to let on how much. He was stunned and angry to have to be put in the position of dealing with the mess Mikey had made. And although I knew he had some nasty words over the phone with Mikey, he knew he had to see him face to face and I knew that he was dreading the real confrontation. How did you go about dealing with one son who so monumentally wounded the other? To feel bad for and try and comfort one would be to admit that the other had been in the wrong and that we were taking sides. It didn't matter which way we turned. We were still hurting one of our children.

In a matter of days, it seemed that our world, the world we knew and depended on, was turned upside down and inside out. I wracked my brain for hours on end as to the how's and why's behind it all. Sitting cross legged on my sectional couch in my red flannel pajamas, hair undone and messy, I sat staring at the wall for long periods of time, forgetting to eat, to get dressed, and sometimes, to even breathe. As he had done for many years, Bosco was the one to take care of me and did it without complaint. Always, when he would come upon me in my comatose state, he would take the throw blanket off the back of the couch and drape it around my shoulders and sigh.

' Faith, it's gonna get better.' He'd say softly, but unsure. Even he didn't know how our family was going to come out of this battle field unwounded, unscathed. How could we?

I took no calls. I spoke to no one other than my husband. I refused to talk to Mike or Brett, both of which had been calling. Carly had decided to take some time off of work, which was easy enough for her to do considering she owned her own business and had competent people working under her, to take care of her father. She had called a couple of times and asked to speak to me. Each time, Bosco would look over at me, mutely asking me with his eyes if I would relent and speak to her and I would shake my head. No. It was too soon.

' Not yet, Carly. Not yet.' Was all he would say.

Ty had taken his wife's death harder than any of us had ever imagined he would. He had lost about ten pounds in a few short weeks, weeks that were filled with crying and heart wrenching discoveries about his only daughter, which he didn't seem to be able to handle. Who could handle this?

Ty, who had always been a very even tempered man, was now on the verge of having an emotional breakdown, as I'm sure, most of the rest of us were. He was angry, he was sad. He couldn't tell one day from the other, not caring either way about himself or anything other than coping with the fact that he had lost his wife. He sat in the house and poured over photo albums and drank glass after glass of scotch. He was moody, depressed, and who could blame him? I hadn't taken enough time to think about him in those dark days and hours. I felt bad for not being there for him, but Bosco more than made up for it.

He made frequent trips to the Davis household to visit Ty and give Carly a break to go lie down or just to be alone. He would spend hours with his best friend, talking or not talking, just sitting side by side on Ty's old warn out sofa, looking at the wall, hurting so much neither of them could speak. Other times, he would come home dead drunk in a cab because they spent the whole day drinking and reminiscing. But they were together and that's what counted.

My strong, hold-it-together husband would come home after some of those visits, worn down and just as woebegone as his best friend, and go outside and work in his garage, building something that had little or no importance, but something to take his mind off of the present. More than once, I would find him out there late into the night, sitting on the stool by the workbench, tears of frustration dripping down his chin. As soon as he saw me, his brave facade took over and he wiped those tears away, as if he was ashamed for letting me that side of himself. He was trying so hard to keep it together, to be the brave one, that he was wearing himself thin. I knew he was out there thinking about our dear friend and Mikey and Brett and Carly, crying for what had happened, for their lack of respect for the sanctity of marriage and that poor little baby who never asked to be put in the middle of the adult mess they had made. Sasha's passing had made it all the more hard for him to cope. For all of us.

I knew that Bosco was as angry as I about Carly being pregnant with Mikey's baby, but I sensed that they had come to some kind of truce with their common goal of looking after Ty and loving him so much. Bosco had truly began to show me that he could handle just about anything. In truth, he was becoming much better at handling these situations that I ever could have been. He never spoke out of turn to Carly, never asked how this could have happened. He always spoke politely to her, respectfully, but with a certain amount of separation, for he too, was very hurt.

But the long and short of it, as he would say, was that Carly Davis was pregnant with our son's baby, the wrong son, but our son, nevertheless. She was our daughter-in-law and she had an affair with her husband's brother and he had made her pregnant. I wondered just how long they had been married and if Brett knew that it was his own brother who betrayed him. I suspected that he had known and that was his reason for not coming to Sasha's funeral all along.

As curious as I was to know all of the sordid details, I couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone and call anyone. It was as if I were standing before a roaring fire, the glowing flames licking and hissing at me, taunting me to touch them and be burned. I knew that when I found out the reasons behind this heinous betrayal I would be forever burned...but I still needed to know and would find out whether I wanted to or not. I fought with myself, one half of me demanded to know the truth, the other half, the half that was cautious and afraid, wouldn't let me do that to myself quite yet.

But, as we all have to learn sooner or later, fate does the deciding for us. Never, never letting us chose when or where or why. Cruel fate, who thrived on controversy and pain, who controlled our destinies with a delicious sense of power and authority, always did what he wanted to in the end.

And so, my fate, my destiny with the truth came upon me one morning when I had dragged myself out of bed and downstairs to drink a cup of coffee, in the form of a knock at the door. It always came at my door, not caring enough to respect my sense of privacy, my safe haven, letting itself in when it was wanted the least.

I had just put the kettle on my stainless steel stove and turned the burner on high. I shuffled over to the island in the middle of the room and plopped down to read the morning newspaper. I opened it to the entertainment section and read my horoscope.

'_Face your problems head on or they will come to you...' _ I groaned and looked up at the ceiling, then read on.

' _Today, get out there and clear up a misunderstanding that is eating you up. You'll feel much better.' _

I scoffed, not amused by this ridiculousness. ' Feel better? Ya. Right.'

The kettle screamed and hissed, impatient for me to take it from the burning steel. I tossed the paper aside, no longer interested and went over to the stove. I grabbed my favorite mug and poured the hot water inside. As I was mixing my sugar and cream, a knock sounded on the back door.

No one ever came to my back door. I leaned back and tried to see through the small side window by the back porch, but couldn't tell who it was. More curious than anything else, I walked over to the back door and moved the curtain a tiny bit to the left to try and peek through.

It was Carly. She was shivering from the terrible cold day it was and probably from nervousness. She knew I didn't want to see her and had nothing to say at the moment, but she came anyway.

'Faith, please let me in. I have to talk to you.' She pleaded, her arms crossed over in front of her in an attempt to keep warm. She was wearing a red down filled Ralph Lauren jacket with a furry hood and a matching red cap and a bright green scarf. She also had on a pair of jeans and hiking boots. Still stunning, was she, even though she never dressed 'down' very often. Carly was one to wear dressy business suits and skirts even if she was uncomfortable.

I stood there a moment contemplating my situation. She had seen me and she knew I was standing a less than a foot away behind my closed door. I didn't want to let her in, but I did. Another war was going on inside me. My heart was thumping and I was starting to sweat, my palms clammy.

There was a time when I loved Carly as much as my own daughter but now, things were twisted and turned and marred. I still loved her, yes, but I was so hurt by what she and Mikey had done that I didn't trust myself to speak to her. I was afraid of what I'd say. The lines beyond friendship and love were betrayal and disappointment. She had earned both. But she was carrying my grandchild, my second grandchild and could I really afford to scream and yell at her as I wanted to, knowing all that she had been through in the past few weeks and could tell me to go to hell? What if I never got to see that grandchild? What if she took he or she far away? I doubted very much that Mikey would own up to his responsibility, considering what he had said to Kath.

In one swift motion, before I could change my mind, I snapped back the lock and turned the doorknob.

Carly's eyes brightened immediately, although she didn't dare smile. She looked kind of dazed and sorrowful and sheepish. Like a child who had come home to it's mother from being somewhere it wasn't supposed to be and knew that it would bring on mother's wrath.

'Hello.' Damn, I saw so much of Sasha in her it brought tears to my eyes. My beautiful dead friend.

'Hi Faith.' She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I liked my lips and wiped my sweaty palms on my pajama pants. This was going to be really tough.

'Come in.'

'Thanks.'

She followed me into the room, taking her coat off and hanging it on one of the chairs, carefully. She smoothed down the ruffled fabric, as if the down filled sleeves were rebelling against her wishes, then stood and stared at me, afraid to invite herself to sit down.

'Have a seat.' I said, holding my arm out toward the island while I busied myself by getting another coffee mug.

She nodded and took a deep breath before taking her stool of choice and sitting down. She ran her hands along her dark hair, which she was wearing down, reaching her shoulder blades in curly ringlets.

'Coffee?'

'Please.'

'Cream and sugar?'

'Please.'

The overly politeness of the conversation was making my nerve endings twang in irritation. We were being so careful and so cautious, it made me feel sick to my stomach. In our family we always talked about everything with no abandon, no pleasantries, just strait talk. Either you liked it or you didn't, and when you lived with a man like Bosco and his two sons, politeness seemed to fly out the window.

I picked up both mugs and made my way over to the island, not meeting her gaze, and sat down.

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

We both took big sips of the coffee trying to fortify ourselves for what was to come. Finally, out of sheer uncomfort, we both spoke at the same time.

'Carly..'

'Faith, I...'

'I'm sorry. You go.' I said, as I exhaled a nervous breath. 'Seems it should be easier to talk to your own daughter-in-law.' I said sadly, realizing it was the first time I had ever said those words to her, or to anyone, for that matter.

She looked away for a moment, guilt stricken, her beautiful face ashen, before she spoke in a low voice. ' I'm sorry about not telling you sooner and I'm sorry for the way you found out about the baby...you don't know how much I wish I could take it back. I'm sorry about a lot of things and I know I can't make it right for you...for any of us...but I'd like to try.'

I opened my mouth and she shook her head. 'Please let me explain some things to you and then you can decide to hate me or to forgive me, and I do hope that you'll forgive me, Faith.'

I stared at her non-committally. I couldn't say a word.

'Brett and I knew we were in love from the time we graduated high school and went to College but we knew that you and Bosco and my parents wouldn't let us stay at the same apartment if you knew that we were lovers and not just good friends. I was so scared being in the city and I don't know if I could have stayed there if he hadn't been by my side, Faith. He was my strength and my shield from everything that went wrong. He was so handsome and confident and he always made me feel stronger than I was.'

I blanched. She was talking about my son as if he was part of her past, dead and gone. 'Was?'

'I...oh...I didn't mean that the way it sounded...sorry...anyway, we just got so that we became a part of each other, lived and breathed for one another and soon we just knew that we wanted to be together forever. At first, we were so happy, him at Harvard and me at Boston Bay. We studied together and helped each other with our projects and stuff...we hardly ever went out except to go to the Library. And when he got his part time teaching job, I didn't think we'd ever be happier. Then I got the shop open and we were doing better than either of us imagined. We got a bigger apartment, had more money than we knew what to do with and we loved each other so much. We drank wine in the evenings and listened to romantic music. On Sunday's we'd go to church and then out for a wonderful lunch and then we'd walk around campus and mingle with all of the students. They all worshiped him and never stopped asking him to their apartments or dorm rooms to chat or discuss literature. He even got invitations to beach houses in Florida time after time from his professors or other students he had met. Even married women would practically swoon over him the minute he entered a room. He had a magic that was rare and sought after by so many people, Faith. He was like a profit to them. Everyone loved him. Sometimes I thought they loved him too much.' She admitted, hanging her head.

What was she trying to tell me? That Brett was a rogue? That the attention he had received from one too many female admirers had driven her into the arms of another man? Of his own brother? I prepared myself for what I thought was to come. I took another long sip of my coffee wishing that I had put something a little extra in.

'We eloped over spring break one year, the time we went to Florida...' She was speaking so fast I could hardly keep up with her.

And then it occurred to me that she was telling me that she and Brett had not just gotten married a short time ago...she was talking about at least three years back...it couldn't be...they couldn't have hid something like that for more than three years...Dear God...it couldn't be true...but when I had asked Brett how long they had been together, he had told me...only he had told me how long they'd actually been married! Not how long they had been dating! The realization almost put me off of the stool, but instead, the hot coffee I had sucked between my lips was spit out of my mouth and landed on everything.

'_What? _Are you telling me that you've been married for _three_ years?' I nearly gaged on my own tongue getting the words out.

'Yes...we.'

'Three years! And you never once thought to yourself that maybe your family would like to know? That maybe our family would have liked to be included in that?' I shrilled at her. She seemed to shrink in size as I directed my hurt words at her. She actually cringed in her seat.

'Faith...it wasn't my idea...it was Brett's.'

'I don't care whose idea it was! For the love of God, Carly, how could you two do such a thing?'

'Please listen to me...please just let me get it out...' She pleaded.

I shut my mouth and stared at her as if I'd never seen her before, my eyes bulging, my heart racing at the news. Three years.

'It was great up until about a year ago, when he started drinking a lot and staying out all night. He usually got asked to stay after class or to go to this little pub that the students hang out at and he just started to go all the time. I didn't know what to think and I questioned him about it and he never would say for sure. But the bills stared piling up and then the calls started to come. The bills I thought he paid, the ones he always took care of, were not getting paid at all.'

I frowned. Brett had always been good about bills and money. He always paid his debts...or so I had thought. I realized that Carly knew my son far better than I could ever hope to and it that alone, I should have been grateful, for she would be the link between us.

'What was he doing with the money?' I questioned angrily.

Her eyes began to water, real pain and sorrow for the man she loved. 'He...he...he has a gambling problem and he spent almost ten thousand dollars of our money in the last year alone...I don't know about before that...but when I looked back at how much we made and added up the numbers...and realized that we were in the red...I confronted him.' She admitted.

I sat back and crossed my arms over my breasts, aghast. 'Aguhhhh! You're saying that he spent a _quarter _of his yearly paycheck on gambling?' I threw my arms up in the air in defeat.

Her tears spilled forth and she brushed them away impatiently. I reached for a kleenex and handed it to her. 'Carly, how could you keep this a secret for so long?' I asked incredulously, almost numb from the pain of hearing it.

'He said that it was our problem...no one else's...and when he drinks a lot...sometimes he gets...really angry...and it's scary.' She said in a whisper.

'Carly, what do you mean 'scary'? I asked in a deadly low voice, my anger now turning to fear. I was so afraid that she was going to tell me that he hit her...please God...don't let me hear it...

'He throws things...breaks stuff...like lamps and dishes and I called Mike one time because I knew that he and Kath were in Boston to see James Taylor play at the Opera House and we had seen them earlier that afternoon and gone to Quincy Market with them to shop around...and he came over right away. He and Brett had a terrible fight and Brett left...and I was so upset...and the apartment was almost wrecked.'

No...this was something entirely different...she was going to tell me about that night...and I didn't want to hear it.

'We were both drinking a lot and I accused him of blowing all of our money at the underground casino and the slot machines...and he just lost it...we had finished dinner and I thought the only way I could get up the courage to speak to him about it was if I was feeling pretty good myself...and he got so mad that he smashed the french doors that lead into our bedroom and threatened to throw me off of the balcony if I said any more about it...honestly, Faith, I was so scared...I didn't know what else to do.' She said as seriously as I'd ever seen her.

'He said that? That he would throw you over the balcony?' My voice had turned thin and hollow. I didn't know what to say anymore. 'So, how did you happen to fall in bed with Mikey?'

This time, it was her turn to blanche, not failing to hear the sarcasm in my voice or the implication.

'As I told you, he came over to help me with Brett and after Brett ran out he stayed to help me clean up. I was really drunk and very upset. He hugged me and held me close. He's a cop! He made me feel safe.' she reasoned.

' He told me he'd stay the night so that if Brett came back he'd be there to make sure everything was ok. He called Kath and told her he was staying and he was fine with it. We drank another bottle or wine to calm down and before I knew it he was kissing me and telling me that he had been in love with me for years...I didn't resist, I couldn't. It all happened so fast that by the time it was over, it felt like it had never happened. I put it out of my mind until I realized I was late for my period'. She said, as if that could possibly explain it all.

' And you confronted him? Did Brett know that Mike had slept with you?'

She bowed her head in shame. ' I told him right after Christmas. I was too afraid to tell him when he was around his family...he gets so out of control...but he knew that I was pregnant and that he wasn't the father.'

I leaned forward and looked at her pointedly. ' Carly, I'm only going to ask you this one time. Only one...did my son ever hit you?'

She gulped down some air, seeming suddenly afraid. ' No. He never laid a hand on me. He just screams and breaks stuff and that's about it.'

But something in the way she spoke to me, her eyes, the tone of her voice, told me that she was lying. There was so much going on with my family that I couldn't possibly understand or fathom, but I knew that sooner or later there would be a showdown between Brett and Mike. I knew that things would never be the same between them again.

I just prayed that we had the strength to deal with whatever came our way.

TBC


	15. Rifts

The months came and went and suddenly spring was upon is. The dirty snow had melted, leaving the new blades of grass to peak up from beneath from the once frozen earth and fill us with hope once again.

I worked at getting my garden ready, planting dozens of rose bushes and azaleas and tulip bulbs and anything that would look or smell nice. Our property wasn't large, but it was big enough to display a fairly impressive lot of bushes and flowers. Bosco and I would work side by side someday's and by the time April came we had planted at least fifteen rose bushes all around our home. The days were long when we had so much to do and think about that it was a relief to sit on our padded knees and dig our hands into the mulchy dark earth and plant new life.

We were getting ready for two new lives to begin in early August. It had turned out that Mikey had gotten both Kath and Carly pregnant in the month of November and they were due around the same time. How hard it was to think about these pregnancy's with any kind of joy or longing, when the circumstances had dictated otherwise. I remembered all of my pregnancies and the excitement that I had felt, the feeling of love so strong, and I wilted knowing that neither Kath or Carly were overly happy about their impending babies arrival.

A few months earlier Bosco and I had called Mikey to our home to speak to him. I had made the call that day and I could tell that my second son had no interest in speaking to either his father or I about it.

' Mike, your father and I want you to come over tomorrow before shift.'

' For what?'

As if he didn't know.

' We want to talk to you about Kath and Carly.and how you plan on handling these pregnancies.'

Silence.

' It really isn't any of your business how I handle it, mother.' He said crossly.

I reacted as if he had slapped me in the face. ' I think it is and you had better be here tomorrow, Michael Maurice! I mean it!'

I had my doubts as to whether or not he'd actually show, but at about one thirty the next day, we saw his green Eclipse come speeding up our driveway. He got out and slammed the door. Hard. He came in and didn't even take off his boots before coming to the kitchen. He was angry with us for meddling but I didn't care.

He strode into my immaculate kitchen dressed like he had just rolled out of bed and had worn the same clothes from the night before. He was wearing a pair of dirty jeans with a Tommy Hilfigger football jersey half tucked into the waistband of his pants. His dark hair looked as scruffy as his whiskers. He looked a little pale as he stood before his father and I with a look of genuine anger on his handsome face. Oh how he reminded me of his father when he stood there looking dark and dangerous. He turned up his nose and curled his lips into a mocking smile and crossed his strong arms over his broad chest.

' Well? I'm here for the lecture.' He announced haughtily.

Bosco, who had been making a pot of coffee, turned around and stared at our son, his face turning a bit red. ' Well, sit your ass down, Michael.' He snapped before pouring three cups of coffee into our bright green mugs.

Bosco had been angry for such a long time, it had been eating away at his soul and by the time Mikey actually came to our house, I was sure we were going to have a fight on our hands. Bosco and Mikey were so much alike, I scared me by times, but the worst of it was that they both got upset very easily and had terrible tempers that were quite hard to control. These tempers could flare by a mere look or the roll of an eye.

Mikey rolled his eyes. ' Yes sir!' He saluted Bosco and threw himself down into one of the kitchen chairs. He lazily stretched his long legs underneath and stifled a yawn.

' And lose that attitude.'

Mikey whipped his head around and gave Bosco a nasty stare. ' I'm not a child anymore so don't talk to me like one!'

' Then stop acting like a child and maybe we can start to discuss this mess you've made.' Bosco hissed, pointing his spoon at him, drips off coffee dripping on the floor.

'Okay, okay. Let's just sit down and talk calmly and rationally about this. There's no sense losing our tempers right out of the gate.' I said, walking over to the table and giving my husband a warning look. Bosco made a face at me and turned back to the beverages.

'Mike, we want to hear it from you. All of it. This is really serious and I think that you need to tell us exactly what is going on. Honey, we love you. Please tell us.' I said, sitting down across from him. I tucked my legs underneath me and ran my hand over my ponytail. I subconsciously picked at the lint on my red turtleneck sweater and threw it on the floor.

' There's nothing to say. It's my own business.' He said crossly, his eyes dark, shooting daggers across the table at me. ' And I don't appreciate you two summoning me over here to give me a big lecture on morality.'

With that, Bosco had threw his spoon into the sink and it clanged loudly. He picked up the three mugs and clanked them down on the table top, some of the hot liquid splashing out. He clenched his jaw tightly, his whole face looked tight.

He sat down and faced our son angrily. ' And I suppose you know what's moral and what isn't? We're your parents, Mike and we have a right to know what's going on.'

' Oh sure you do. I'm twenty-six years old! I know that the situation isn't exactly the best right now...but I'm handling it.' He said defiantly, lifting his chin much in the same manor as I'd seen Bosco do a million times.

My eyes widened and I felt myself grasping for control. ' Handling it? An exactly how are you doing that? Are you helping out with money? Are you taking Kath to her appointments? Are you close to apologizing to your brother for _sleeping with his wife?' _

He had the decency to look away. He adjusted himself and leaned his arms forward on the table and clasped his fingers together. ' Look...I don't know what they've been telling you...but I'm not even sure that I'm the father of the baby...' Making me wonder who he was talking about...Kath or Carly?

'...and you know what it's like to be young and getting your share of the action...' He continued, smirking slightly.

I got the implication and so did Bosco, but I continued on with my original thought.

' Oh give me a break! You were sleeping with three different women at the same time, Michael! Have you ever heard of sexually transmitted diseases? Have you ever stopped once to think about what you've done to your brother? Do you know? Have you spoken to him?' I demanded.

' It's different for guys, isn't it, dad?'

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, but he didn't look at me, he looked at his father, as if to find an ally at that moment. Bosco, who had leaned on the table covering his mouth with his hand, looked bewildered and his eyebrows shot up as Mikey looked at him.

' Don't look at me to defend you.' He said.

Mikey shook his head and laughed sarcastically. ' No...I wouldn't do that, dad. Especially coming from the guy who slept with half of New York City when he was my age!'

' Michael!' I yelled, furious that he would dare speak to his father with such disrespect.

' Well it's true, isn't it dad? You told me about how wild you were, sometimes taking two women home in one night. So don't sit here and give me your bullshit talks when you're no better yourself.'

' Michael Maurice! You shut your mouth right now!' I demanded. I was scared of what this was going to turn into.

Bosco's eyes widened by the attack. His nostrils flared and he pointed his finger until it actually touched his son's nose. ' Don't let me ever hear you say that shit again! Do you understand? What I did in my younger days has nothing to do with you! I never got two women pregnant at the same time! And if I had, I would have taken the responsibility!' He roared, spit coming out of his mouth.

Mikey looked back at him, totally unaffected ' You probably wouldn't know if you did get more than one pregnant. They probably just got abortions.' He said snidely.

I felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of the room. As quick as a flash Bosco reached over with his arm and...smack! The sound of Bosco's palm slapping Mikey's face, was a sickening sound. There was a red splotch on his cheek as Bosco dropped his hand away and stood up and towered over him.

' I'm gonna tell you this one time! If you ever speak disrespectfully to me like that again, I don't care how old you are...I will paddle your ass so hard you won't sit down for a month!' He was shaking and trying very hard to calm himself down before he did something else he'd regret. He'd never, ever hit one of our children before this day.

Mikey was on his own feet in a flash, his arm raised to strike his father. Both men staring at each other breathing heavily and cursing under their breath. They were facing each other down, Boscorelli to Boscorelli.

I jumped up from the table and ran in between them. 'Don't! Please stop!' I pleaded, trying to push each away. Bosco backed off first and walked backwards toward the kitchen entrance.

' I can't talk to him, Faith! You can sure as hell try but I'm_ done!' _He yelled, as angry as I'd ever seen him before.

' Go to hell!' Mikey yelled over my shoulder.

'_I'm already there!'_ Bosoc yelled over his shoulder. I heard him pound up the stairs and slam the bedroom door viciously.

I turned on Mikey, ready to slap some sense into him myself. ' How could you talk to your father like that? How could you after everything he's been through in the past little while?' I yelled, clutching his jersey in my hand.

He pushed me away from him and turned around in circles, swearing loudly and pounding his fists against his thighs. 'Because you two won't mind your own business! Why can't you just leave it alone?' He shrilled at me, his face red and marred looking.

Exhausted, I walked back to the table and sat down heavily. I started to cry and buried my face in my hands, trying to choke back the sobs that wracked and shook my body.

He stood there not knowing what to say but I could tell that he was sorry for upsetting, at least me, if not his father. Mikey couldn't stand to see a woman cry and it seemed odd to me that he'd have that sense about him when it seemed he didn't have any other sensitive bone in his twenty-six year old body.

He came over and sat down at the table again, picked up his coffee that had been untouched and took a sip. ' Come on ma. I'm sorry I upset you. Don't cry.' He said, his voice cracking a bit.

I lowered my hands from my face and accepted the tissue he was holding out to me, with a sorry look on his face.

That had been almost two months ago. Eight weeks, long weeks that he really didn't speak to us unless we called to see how he was doing, or I should say, I called. He and Bosco had not spoken since that day and I was beginning to wonder if they ever would again. But before Mikey had left that day, he and I did manage to have somewhat of a truce and even a decent talk.

He admitted that he didn't want Kath's baby and that he had asked her to get rid of it. As of late, Kath had been transferred to another precinct where she would work the desk until her baby was born. I had kept in contact with her as much as I could, and I knew that the baby she was having was a boy. She was keeping it and she had asked Mikey to sign away his rights to his own child. I knew that already, without him saying a word. And he had done so. No questions except to wonder if he would have to pay child support.

But Carly's baby was another matter entirely.

He spoke about her pregnancy with interest. To my surprise, he knew exactly how far along she was and he also knew how her appointments had gone. I was very interested to hear the way he spoke about her after the way he'd treated her at her mother's funeral and I began to wonder if he was in love with her. But because he knew, it dawned on me that he and Carly were still keeping in contact. From the way Carly spoke about him, I sensed that she didn't have warm feelings for him...but could that have been a lie?

As far as I knew, he had never talked to his brother and never apologized for his actions. I still hadn't dealt with Brett and the gambling situation but knew that it was coming eventually. I knew that Bosco and I had to get him some help, even if he didn't want it...but the most important thing was to keep Carly and our grandchild safe..at all costs.

Mikey had also mentioned that he was still seeing Carmelle a great deal and that she understood the situation and was willing to forgive him for sleeping around, since he technically wasn't 'officially' dating her until after his trip to Boston. I was very surprised to learn this, considering that Carmelle seemed to be such a bright intelligent woman. A woman who was beautiful enough to have her pick of men. I would have thought she'd have better sense.

And so, Bosco and I lived day after day under a gray cloud, waiting to hear the next piece of bad news from one of our children. The only time either of us came out from the doldrums was when Little Faith was around.

She was so beautiful and loving. Our Little Faith loved to run around the garden with us and smell the pretty flowers that were starting to bloom. She loved to go for long walks in her pretty pink and blue stroller and Bosco and I frequently donned our splash suits and Nike sneakers and took her all around the neighborhood and to the nearest parks. She loved wearing her pink rubber boots and matching rain coat and laughed delightedly when they came out of the closet and she knew she could wear them.

When our kids were younger, every single time it rained I would take them outside to splash in the puddles. Mikey, Brett and Emma all loved to put on their rubber boots and tramp around in the mud, stamping furiously and making the biggest mess they could. Splish-splash, they would call it and it got so that they wished for rain so they could go outside and get drenched.

'Mama! It's raining! Can we go splish-splash now?' Emma would call to me as she ran down the hallway, her blond ponytail swinging from side to side.

' Yes, sweetie. Go get your boots.' I'd say. And out we'd go, Mikey, Brett, Emma and myself, all around the neighborhood in the pouring rain, looking for the best puddles to splash in.

I missed those days when my kids were young and at home with us. The days when they would come home from school and Bosco would have left freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for them to enjoy, for I couldn't cook worth a damn.

The days when they would come home from a fishing trip with their father, proud as punch over some little fish they'd caught at the lake.

The days when my sons ran to me with open arms, flinging themselves into me and wrapping their skinny arms around my waist. ' I love you, momma.'

If it weren't for my grandchild to keep me sane, I truly think I would have lost it. Now that Emma needed a sitter full time, it was a blessing to both Bosco and myself. We gladly gave up our sleeping in for being awake at seven to get ready for our dark haired princess.

One morning in July, we had gotten up extra early to go to Coney Island beach. We had packed sandwiches and juice for our little one, along with rice crispie squares and arrowroot cookies. Bosco had packed our blue Mustang with towels, extra clothes and tons of beach toys.

He was more excited than I'd seen him in a long time. Whistling, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I was standing in front of our large mirror in the bedroom, trying on my black bathing suite and feeling quite pleased with the way I looked. I had wrapped a little multi-colored wrap about my waist and wore a pair of blue flip-flops. I didn't care how old I got. I still loved them. He was wearing a blue Tommy Hilfigger t-shirt and a pair of blue swimming trunks with black flip-flops and he looked as sexy to me as he ever had.

'_Blue skies, nothing but blue skies...' _

He stopped whistling. ' You excited about today?' He asked, his blue eyes brightening.

I smiled and leaned into his strong chest. ' Ya. I love the beach. And I'd say we need something to be excited about.'

He nodded behind me and I could see that he needed this day of relaxing probably more than I did.

The doorbell rang and he let go of me instantly and headed for the door. 'That's Little Faith.' He said excitedly as he rushed out of the room.

I checked myself in the mirror and grabbed my sunglasses off of the dresser and put them on. Satisfied with my appearance I finished gathering up my beach bag and followed him down the stairs, whistling the same tune he had been.

'_Blue skies, nothing but blue skies...' _

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I brought my hand to my mouth and gasped, for it was not Little Faith at the door, but Anthony Boscorelli, the man who we had not seen for over twenty years!


	16. Long Lost

**Long Lost**

Anthony Boscorelli, the man who Bosco had believed to be his father for his entire life, the man who Rose had admitted was not his biological father, the man who had hurt and beaten my husband as a child, stood on our front doorstep, looking strangely disturbed.

And if he was disturbed, it was nothing compared to the disbelief that surely was written across Bosco's face, and although I could only see him from behind, I saw from the way he tightened his posture that he was affected. His whole body stiffened and he clenched his fists at the sight of the man who was responsible for so much. Even after all of those years, Bosco still thought about him as his father and he still got angry the minute he laid eyes on the man.

This man, this piece of human waste, had hurt my husband in ways that he had never recovered from. As a child, Bosco was subjected to slaps and kicks and punches and curse words that were too terrible to repeat, used and abused, thrown around like he was a piece of trash. I hated the man who had made Bosco question his own identity, his own sense of self worth. He was the reason that my husband made it his personal mission in life to help victims of domestic abuse, the reason that he still blamed himself for allowing Anthony to beat his mother. The reason why he still woke up, drenched in sweat, with nightmares at night, even at fifty-seven years old.

And if I hated him, I could only imagine the disgust and anger that my beloved must have felt when he opened the door. I dropped my beach bag to the hardwood floor and walked up beside Bosco and put my arm around his waste protectively. He put his free arm around my shoulders and I could feel him trembling.

He didn't say a word, but I could tell that he was gritting his teeth. His eyes were wide and hurt looking, as they always got when he saw Anthony or talked about him, which wasn't often. He kept his face tight and looked with no emotion whatsoever at the man he once called 'dad'.

' What do _you_ want?' He said coldly.

The man who stood before us was only a shell of what he used to be. The Anthony I remembered was over six feet tall, bulky and surly looking. A hulk of a man, who had no more sympathy for his own family than he had for a total stranger. In fact, I'm sure a stranger would have been treated better. But time had not been kind to this man.

He was at least in his late seventies, no longer tall and strong. He still wore his characteristic seventies style brown leather jacket that reached below his waist and wore a gray turtleneck sweater and black pants. His once full head of hair had thinned considerably and was now a shock of white. His skin, however, was tanned and leathery, with deep lines across his forehead and under his eyes. He must have been spending a lot of time outside. With that jacket on, he must have been sweltering under there. It was July and hot as hell outside...but what did I care?

He leaned on a black walking cane and reached up to wipe some sweat from his brow. He swallowed, as if to fortify himself. I looked over his shoulder and saw a yellow cab parked in our driveway. It was still running, it's grouchy looking driver, waiting.

' Maurice...can I speak with you?' He asked sincerely, his eyes darting over to me to see what my reaction to him would be. ' Hello Faith.' He added. I didn't answer. I was too busy getting over the fact that after twenty years he was standing on our steps.

' I have nothin to say to you.' Bosco said sharply, tightening his grip on me, digging his fingers into my flesh.

Anthony winced, but said nothing.

' No.' Bosco said, as an after thought. ' I do have some things to say to you, but none of them are nice. I have so much to say to you it would take a book to fill it up, but I won't waste my time.'

Anthony looked down for a second, anticipating such a reaction from his 'son' and then held up his hand. He looked so sad and forlorn, his eyes pleading. ' I understand, but if you'd be so kind as to listen to me for a few minutes I'd greatly appreciate it.'

Bosco snorted in disgust. ' You'd appreciate it? Since when have you ever taken anyone else's feelings into consideration? Why should I be kind? You made your bed. Lie in it.' He spat, taking his arm off of me and reaching back to close the door in Anthony's face.

' _Please, _Maurice. I've come to right the past.' He cried, leaning in and grabbing the door to keep Bosco from shutting it on him. ' I have to tell you something.'

Bosco's mouth dropped open and he glared at Anthony. ' Did you just say you've come to 'right the past'? Do you think that I'll ever forgive you for what you did? Do you think that I've forgotten what you did to ma and to Mikey?' He demanded hotly, clutching the door frame so hard his knuckles turned white.

' No. I don't expect anything from you and I can't undo the wrong things that I've done...but I need to talk to you and you'll be glad that I did.' Anthony said miserably, again wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead with a kleenex he had dug out of his pocket.

' Why don't you let him come in for a minute, Bos'. I said softly, feeling a tiny bit guilty for letting the old man stand out in the heat. No matter what he had done, we could at least let him in for a minute and listen to what he had to say. I mean, after twenty some years he must have had something pretty important to say if he came to our house, knowing how much he was hated.

Bosco turned on me as if I had said the most absurd thing in the world. ' Come in? What the hell are you talking about? Come in?'

' It's too hot for him to be standing out there. He looks like he's going to faint. Just let him in for a minute so he can tell you whatever it is and then you never have to see him again.' I added pointedly.

' Please, it will only take a minute.' Anthony implored. His face was turning red and he was breathing pretty heavy.

' Fine.' Bosco said, crossing his arms over his chest. 'But don't expect me to give a shit. We were on our way out but I guess we can spare a few minutes. We're taking our granddaughter to the beach...you ever take your kids to the beach? No...wait...you were too busy beating us up to take us anywhere.' He said acidly, backing up a few feet to let Anthony enter.

I looked down at the floor and concentrated on my pink polished toenails. I didn't know what else to say to ease the tension. There wasn't anything to say that would make this less uncomfortable for any of us.

Anthony didn't respond, only made his way inside and stood a moment, wheezing for air and looking around.

' This is a real nice place you have here. Ya done it up real good.' He commented, more out of uncomfortableness than anything else.

' Ya. I redid it for my wife and kids. You ever do anything nice for your wife or kids?' Bosco asked sarcastically, but I could hear the hurt in his voice and see the pain in his eyes.

Ignoring him, Anthony looked at the beautiful cherry wood hall tree that held our coats and hats. 'This is beautiful.' He complimented lightly.

'I made it for my family...but I bet you wouldn't understand that, would you? Why any man would do anything nice for his family.' Bosco continued, trying to hurt his 'father'.

Before he could answer, I turned to Anthony. ' Would you like to take off your coat?'

' No thank you, Faith. I won't be staying long.' He said sadly.

Bosco snorted, as he stood back and watched Anthony. ' Best news I've heard all day.'

' Bosco..' I began wearily, not wanting this to turn into a screaming match.

'It's alright Faith. I deserve whatever he has to say.' He said softly, looking at his 'son', not at me. ' I did a lot of terrible things and I deserve every word.'

Unaffected by Anthony's words, Bosco turned away from us and walked back to the kitchen, leaving me to walk the elder Boscorelli down the hall.

It was slow going, as he shuffled along beside me, stopping every few seconds to look at all of my pictures that were hung. He looked at his grandchildren with interest, even though we both knew there was no blood connection. He saw pictures of Rose and Mikey and graduation and birthday photos, sometimes reaching up with his gnarled old hand to touch one of their faces.

I got the impression that he almost wished things had been different and he had had the pleasure of seeing his grandchildren grow up and been a real part of the family. What would it have been like if he had been Bosco's real father and they had gotten along, as any father and son should? I sighed for all that should have been, but could never be.

'What are their names?' He asked, looking over at me.

' Our kids?'

' Ya.'

I pointed to a picture that had been taken over Christmas of the three of them. 'Well, that one, the tallest one, is Mikey. He's twenty-six. Then, the blond guy is Brett, and he's twenty-four...and the girl is Emma. She's twenty-two and she's the mother of our granddaughter...we call her Little Faith...' I said softly.

' They're good looking kids.' He commented.

I lead him into the kitchen and over to the table. I pulled out a seat for him and he plopped down, seemingly tired. Bosco was already sitting, his faced all puckered into a smirk, and his legs were moving up and down a mile a minute. He couldn't sit still.

I got some lemonade and some glasses and joined them.

' What do you have to tell me? I don't have all day.' Bosco said impatiently, grabbing his glass and downing quickly.

Anthony took a sip of his cool drink and then set it down on the table. ' I got a name of a guy that you need to go talk to.'

'What?'

' There's someone that you need to meet. I got his name.' He said evasively.

' Whose name? What are you talking about?'

' There's a guy in lower Manhattan that you need to go and see. I have his name on a piece of paper. It's important.'

' What the hell are you talking about da...Anthony?' Bosco asked again, leaning on the table and holding out his hands.

' I don't want to get into it with you, Maurice, but can't you take my word for it when I tell you that you need to see this guy?'

' Look, I don't got time for this. Why do I need to talk to someone I've never met?' Bosco asked snappily.

Anthony shifted himself uncomfortably in his seat and tugged at the collar of his sweater.

'Because he's your real father.'


	17. Father, Who Art Thou?

**Father, Who Art Thou?**

Bosco sat across from me holding a piece of paper in his hand. On that paper was the first name and address of the man who held the key to his true parentage. He looked dazed and shocked, as the information sunk into the furthermost corner of his brain, confusing him and making his mind race with unanswered questions.

Anthony had left us shortly after he had divulged the information, sensing that we needed to be alone and also, because he knew he really wasn't wanted in our home. As I walked him to the door, I knew that this was his way of making up for the harm he had done in the past to Bosco and his mother and brother.

'I'm sorry for waiting so long to tell Maurice the truth.' He had said sadly, clutching that old cane in his hand. He looked down at the floor for a long moment as I stood beside him, not knowing what to say.

'I'm glad that you did. He should know.' I said.

When he looked up at me again, he had tears streaming down his puffy cheeks, his blue eyes shiny. I could feel how sorry he was and it made me feel bad.

'He really is a fine man, Faith. I'm glad that you love him so much. Please take care of my son. I...I...wish...that things could have been different.' He said sincerely. It put tears in my eyes to hear those words, for we both knew that Bosco was not his son, but the sentiment behind it was touching.

'Me too. Goodbye Anthony...and thanks.' I whispered, feeling a lump in my throat. I quickly swallowed it and closed the door. I watched him make his way down our steps toward the cab that awaited him. Emma's car was waiting to pull into the driveway, its blinker indicating its intent. I hoped she didn't ask who had been here. My thought's reverted back to Anthony as the cab backed out of the drive and made it's way down the street.

I wondered what he was thinking about, as he got inside and gave me a small wave, a sad wave, from the backseat. Would he go home and cry himself to sleep, sorry for what he had done? Would he wish that he had been a better father, as he went home to an empty house with no one to love? No grandchildren to hold? Would he sit at home and stare out the window and watch the families and children strolling along the street and wonder why he had messed up so many lives? Did he feel the ache in his chest that comes from losing everything important? Loneliness was the cruelest season of all, I thought sadly. Once, Anthony Boscorelli had a wife and two beautiful children and he didn't appreciate them one iota. Now, he was in the end days of his life and he was alone. I sighed as I shut the screen door on our past, echoing loudly.

He didn't have to do it, but he had felt compelled to tell the truth after all of those years. And even though there were years of bad blood between us, I felt a tiny bit grateful for his decision. Bosco had always wondered who his real father had been and even mentioned it a few times, but was really too scared to do anything about it. Now he knew his first name.

We knew that Rose had been pregnant with him when she married Anthony all those years ago. On her death bed she had revealed the secret that must have been weighing heavily on her heart and her conscience, but she had died before she could tell him his father's name, leaving poor Bosco to wonder about the truth.

What if it had been me in that same situation? What would I have felt if my mother had told me that my father wasn't my true blood kin? How would I have coped, knowing that I might never know the truth? There had been times in the past that I had asked my husband if he wanted to find out who Rose had been seeing. We had friends in the police department who would have gladly checked into it for us, but he had been too embarrassed to ask them. He was more comfortable not knowing, for knowing might have been so much worse.

Before I could discuss the matter any further, Emma came to the door with Little Faith. She was in a hurry to get to work and didn't notice my listless mood. She was wearing a pretty tan colored summer dress with a pair of matching sandals. She wore her blond hair up in a ponytail and wore no makeup. She was beautiful enough without it. Her long legs were tanned and shapely and she wore a silver ankle bracelet on her left foot.

' Who was in the cab, mom?'

' No one. Just an old...friend.' I said quickly, hoping to not have to discuss it.

She set the baby down and bend down on her haunches and smothered her tiny face with kisses and then hugged her close. ' You be a good girl at the beach today for gramma and gappa, ok?'

Little Faith squealed when she heard the word 'beach' and clapped her little hands together. She was wearing a pear of denim shortalls with a pink t-shirt underneath. Emma had put her curly dark hair into two small pigtails and she looked adorable, especially with her custom-made pink flip flops. They were really for show, and she couldn't walk easily in them, but they were cute.

'Gama, I ga fipps!' She said proudly, lifting one tiny foot to let me see her shoes. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

'Pretty girl! Why don't you go show gapa? He's in the kitchen.' I said, smiling at her. Instantly, she took off down the hall, running as fast as her covered feet would allow.

'Gapa...gapa...I ga fipps...' She called as she ran.

I turned back to Emma. ' So, Em, you'll be by about five-thirty or so?' I asked.

'Around then...I'll see...I wanted to go to Filene's after work for a minute to get Rob a new shirt for that meeting next week..but I'll call you on your cell.' She said as she stood up and adjusted her dress.

'Ok then.' I said, forcing fake cheerfulness.

' See you later mom.' Emma called over her shoulder as she raced out the door.

A second later Bosco came out of the kitchen holding Little Faith in his arms. She was squealing and laughing as he planted kisses on her rosy cheek. I knew he was trying his best to hold himself together, but I also knew that nothing was more important to him than taking his granddaughter to the beach as we had originally planned. To him, a promise was not something to break, and if he promised something, he delivered. Anthony had broken so many promises to he and Mikey when they were young, they learned to expect disappointments. When we started having kids, he always made good on his word and if he promised to do something with them, he did it. No if's and's or but's.

As he came toward me, I could see the pain and torment in those blue orbs. A kind of paralyzing numbness that made him appear as if he were in another world and not with us. He reached me and kissed me on the cheek before handing Little Faith to me.

' Bosco..shouldn't we talk...' I started, as I shifted the baby around onto my other hip, so I could face him. She grabbed onto my sunglasses that were on top of my head and tried to put them on.

' Nope. We're going to the beach just like we said we would.' He said as he grabbed his keys off of the side table dish and stashed them in the pocket of his blue shorts.

'Bos...I think you should talk about this first...aren't you upset?' I asked lightly. I didn't want our granddaughter to sense that anything was wrong, so I kept my voice as usual as I could.

He walked around me and opened the screen door and held it open for me to pass through. He pursed his lips together for a second before replying. ' No. I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't change anything. Let's just forget that Anthony came over here.' He said, avoiding my gaze.

' Okay then...if that's what you want to do...but...' I stared at him, worriedly. I knew my husband and I knew that he was in no shape to go traipsing around the beach. But like the stubborn man he always was, he was going to avoid the issue until he blew up like a volcano. There was only so much pressure he could take before he reached his limit. I knew he was avoiding this topic because he didn't have enough time to think about it. And didn't want to.

' No but's about it.' He said quickly, closing the door on that particular topic and ushering us out the door and down the steps. ' We're going to the beach to build sand castles and have a picnic.' He said in the baby voice he always used with Little Faith, as we walked down the flagstone walk toward our Mustang.

When I wasn't walking to the car quickly enough, he stopped and turned and looked at me, his hands on his hips. 'Well? Are you coming or not?' He asked, in a slightly irritated voice, his face donning a fake smile for the baby's sake.

He shouldn't be going to the beach, I thought to myself. He should be going to see his real father and getting some answers.

After I had strapped the baby in and given her some cherrios for the drive, I took my place beside him in the front seat. I snapped my seat belt into place and adjusted the mirror to put on some lip gloss. I glanced sideways and looked at my husband who was fiddling with the radio dial.

'Are you okay?'

He sighed and looked over at me, giving me a 'don't go there' look. 'I told you I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it.' He said shortly, as he started the car and put it into gear.

He carefully guided us down the long circular driveway and out onto the street, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white...but he didn't want to talk about it. The leather seat was sticking to my skin and burning my rear end.

'Can you put the air conditioning on Bos? This seat is hot.' I said.

'Uh, huh.' He said, not even looking at me. 'We need some music.' He grumbled to himself.

Not finding the music he liked on the radio, he switched the stereo into cd mode and inserted his favorite cd, a single album written by Jim Cuddy from the band 'Blue Rodeo'. Blue Rodeo had been his favorite band for years and he took their music where ever he went. They were my favorite as well and I couldn't help but always be amazed by their music and how they had a song for every mood I'd ever felt and every emotion I'd ever had. They were very talented and had a magic between them that was awesome. He pressed the buttons until he came to a song that made me want to cry.

_**Too Many Hands**_

_Too many hands_

_carving up the sky_

_and leaving their mark in the sand._

_Our destiny moves_

_no matter where we stand._

_Too many hands._

_There's dust in my eyes_

_poison in my brain_

_an ocean that runs through my veins._

_But here in my chest_

_there's a feeling I don't understand._

_Too many hands_

_Here on the highest ground_

_you can see how far we've gone._

_One voice cries echoes on and on._

_Far away gone_

_I'll be hiding from the plans_

_of too many hands._

_Traces of history _

_appear across the sky._

_Lay down now and let your spirit fly._

_Too many hands fade away with time._

_They're losing themselves in the plan._

_I offer my voice_

_hear me if you can._

_Too many hands._

_Too many hands._

I felt a terrible lump form in my throat as I listened to those beautifully sung words. It seemed that destiny would prove to be the biggest part of our lives that didn't stand still. No matter what we did or where we went, it was still there, reminding us of all that it could do. I wondered why Anthony had chosen this particular day to come to our house. Would he have come back again if he hadn't found us home? Or would that destiny have changed forever.

Not for the first time, I wondered exactly who this man was that had made Rose pregnant and had left her. What did he look like? Who was he? Did he know about his long-lost son and would he want to meet him? Was he tall or short or did he have Bosco's eyes or nose? Would we take one look at him and find that Bosco was an exact duplicate? Here I was, imagining all of those things when I didn't know if he would ever look the man up.

Was he afraid... and was that the reason he wanted to pretend that Anthony_'s _visit had never happened? Was it fear and hurt that had decided to close that door even though it was barely open? My husband had learned at a very early age, not to depend on anyone or anything, that trusting someone was a foolish thing to do. He had learned that from Anthony and it had stuck. The only people he had trusted were myself and Sasha and Ty. He had never let anyone else in to his private world, the world where those of us who understood and loved him best, were given the privilege of knowing the real Maurice Boscorelli. The man who was sensitive and kind and who would do anything for a friend and never ask anything in return. The man who cried like a baby when we had to bury our pet cat, Kitza, after having her for years. Who looked after his granddaughter and played barbie's and tea party as many times as she wanted to. Yes, there were many facets to the man I loved and I knew that even if no one else in this world understood the man he was, it didn't matter, for I was the luckiest woman in the world because I had him.

Little Faith fell asleep in her car seat, her head tilted downward and resting on her chin, her thumb in her mouth. She looked so cute, I took my camera out of my beach bag and twisted around to snap a picture.

'Adjust her head, Faith. She's gonna have a sore neck.' Bosco said, looking at her in the rearview mirror, with a small frown.

Without replying, I gently tilted her head back and stuffed a towel in between the side of the seat and her face so she would have a little more support. Turning back around, I opened the glove box and took out a sucker and ripped off the wrapper. Bosco glanced over at me, eyeing the lolly.

'You want one?'

'Sure.' He said, opening his mouth wide while he watched the road, so I could stick it in. I grabbed another and pulled the wrapper off it and shoved the garbage in the beach bag.

We rode in silence for a while, taking in the scenery and listen to the music. It was a beautiful day. Puffy white clouds, as fat and creamy looking as a cotton ball, floated gently through the turquoise sky as we rolled along in our blue Mustang. The closer we got to the beach I could smell the fresh saltiness of the water and the delicious smell of the hot sand that surely had a thousand bare feet walking through it. Children would be running in multi-colored bathing suits, splashing and screaming their delight at being at one of the best places on earth. It was no secret; I loved the beach and I would have lived there if I could have. I mentioned to Bosco different times about moving to Florida, but he never would leave the city he loved. I could understand. New York was like no place else on earth. I closed my eyes and let the sensation take over, filling me with a peaceful feeling that I always got when I took this ride.

'Faith?' He said tentatively, his voice barely audible. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

He glanced over at me to be sure I was listening.

'Yah?'

'Do you think I should go see this guy? I mean...do you think we should go and meet him?' He asked, his voice thick and gritty.

That was just like him...to tell me that in no certain terms would he discuss the situation and get irritated and upset at me for asking...but I always knew that it was only a matter of a few minutes or hours before he changed his mind and asked for my advice. How wonderful to know him so well. How comforting it had become to me to know my husband like I knew myself. Of course I thought we should go see the man who had given him life, but it really wasn't my decision. It had to be one of the hardest decisions a person could make, I thought to myself. And although Bosco had to be afraid he also must have had a burning desire to meet and see this mystery man.

'I think that it should be your decision...but I think that if you don't go and see this man you will always regret it. I'll go with you if you want.'

As we approached the parking area he shifted down and looked for a spot to park. When he found one he pulled in and shut off the ignition. He turned around in his seat and cast me a lost stare, as if he didn't know where to start or what to say.

'But..what happens after we meet? He hasn't been around for fifty-seven years..and maybe he doesn't even know about me. What if I show up on the door step and he has other kids that have no idea that I even existed? What then?' He said, his eyes taking on a sad look.

I reached over and took his hand into mine and gently gave it a squeeze. 'Babe, those are questions that neither one of us can answer, but if you don't go and see him than you'll never know. Are you willing to risk that?'

He sighed, troubled by the thoughts in his head, the decisions he faced. 'I don't know...we never met before and yet, I have wondered for years about who he was and what he looked like...and I wondered if he loved my mother at all, or if he was just a one night stand...all those things are questions that were irrelevant until now...I never had the chance to seriously think about what I'd say if I ever met him. But I have his first name and where he lives..which is a helluva lot more than I've ever had.'

'I think that you should do what ever your heart tells you to.' I said, caressing his cheek with my free hand. 'I'll back you up a hundred and ten percent no matter what you decide.'

Tears sprang into his beautiful eyes but he refused to let them fall. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. 'I love you, Faith.'

"I love you too.'

With that, we got Little Faith out of her seat and I held her while Bosco took our beach belongings and slung them over his shapely shoulders.

'We have enough stuff to stay here for a month.' He grumbled, while trying to hold on to everything at once.

We set up our blanket and rubbed sun-screen on our darling girl and then Bosco and I took her walking along the sand, looking for seashells or other things we could use to build a castle.

By the end of the afternoon we were tired and burnt. We had eaten all of our sandwiches and drank two jugs of pepsi, along with all of the other snacks we'd taken. Little Faith had a wonderful time playing in the sand and getting her toes wet in the water.

We packed up our things and headed back toward the car. Bosco hadn't been his usual self but I couldn't blame him. He had so much on his mind, but I was glad he had spent the day with his granddaughter. When we were safely buckled in our belts, we headed back toward the highway, feeling ready for a nap.

'I think I'm gonna call him tonight when we get home.' Bosco said absently, as he looked at the scenery passing us by. I was driving and he was playing co-pilot. He reached up to twiddle the charm on his chain. Over and over, he twisted and turned that thing, as he did when he was deep in thought.

'Are you sure...I mean so soon? Do you think that you're ready for that?' I asked, looking over at him for a quick second.

He looked over at me, then shook his head slowly. 'No...I'm not sure...I don't think I'll ever be sure...but I'm gonna at least see if he'll meet me. It might be interesting. And if we don't hit it off it won't be like I'm missing someone I never met before.' He said without conviction, as if he really didn't expect any good to come of it.

Later that night, as he had told me he would, Bosco sat down at our kitchen table with the cordless phone in one hand and the piece of paper that Anthony had given him in the other. He stared at them both for a good five minutes before looking up at me for reassurance.

We were both nervous as we sat there, so worried that this would prove to be a disaster and make things worse for everyone involved. Bosco's leg drummed up and down underneath the table, making him appear jumpy and hyper volatile as he tried to gather up the strength to make the dreaded phone call.

It was only eight-thirty but we had both showered and put on our pajamas. I wore a thin black cotton nightie that only reached inches below my rear and although it was fairly hot in our house I still shivered. From nervousness more than anything else. Bosco had a pair of blue and white checkered pajama pants with a drawstring waist that matched the wonderful color of his eyes. He wore no shirt and his sculpted chest looked very appealing to me.

Finally, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. His hands were shaking as he brought the phone up to his ear. His eyes were filled with fear and anxiety as he tapped his fingertips against the polished wood of our table. He listened for a few seconds and then his face went white as the person on the other end answered.

'Hello? Could I speak to Arthur please?' He said in a high pitched voice. He cleared his throat listened.

'Yes...thanks...this is Maurice Boscorelli calling.' He said quickly.

And then:

'Hello? Is this Arthur...uh, Arthur?' He finished, feeling stupid because he didn't even know this man's last name. 'My name is Maurice Boscorelli...'

Silence.

'My mothers name was...'

'Yes. Rose...that's right...Rose Renzetti...yes...' He nodded his head as he spoke. I was sitting beside him with my legs curled up underneath me, holding my breath.

'Yes. I would like that...when?' He looked to me and I nodded. " Tomorrow? That's fine...yes, I have the address...okay then...I'll see you tomorrow.'

With that, he hung up and set the phone on the table and leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

'Well? What did he say? Does he want to meet you tomorrow? What did he say?' I asked, terribly anxious to hear what he had said.

He gathered his wits about him and looked at me with a look of confusion. 'He said he had been waiting for this day for fifty-seven years.'


	18. Ma Familia

**Ma** **Familia**

The very next day both Bosco and myself were up early to get showered and dressed for the meeting that was fifty-seven years in the making. How nervous we were, how much like young children, yearning and hoping that everything would turn out fine and that we would not regret the decision to meet 'Arthur'. We didn't even know his last name or who he was, beyond that small piece of paper that Bosco tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

I wore a colorful summer skirt that reached just below my knees with a white t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. I wore my hair down around my shoulders and I had brushed it until it shone, making it silky smooth. Bosco wore a blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans and sneakers. He wasn't going to dress up for this moment and being in comfortable clothes would keep him in his element.

We ate a light breakfast consisting of fruit cups with granola and orange juice and coffee. I read the morning paper while he kept staring at that piece of paper as if it held all of the secrets he'd ever hope to know. It was Saturday and that meant that Little Faith would be staying at home with Emma and Rob and I was glad that I didn't have to come up with an excuse as to why we couldn't look after her. Bosco and I had talked about it at length and decided that we wouldn't tell any of our children about Arthur until we had met him and decided if he was going to be a part of our lives.

Who could tell what this day would bring, I thought to myself as I chewed on my breakfast. We might not like him or he might not want to see us again...what if he just wanted to meet Bosco and then be done with him? It would break his heart, I knew it would, for even though my husband was trying to make me think that he didn't care what Arthur thought of him, I knew that in his secret put-away heart he longed for a father, even at his age.

I put the dishes in the sink and grabbed my small purse off of the counter and turned to him.

'Are you ready to go?' I asked softly.

He nodded and stood up and put his own dishes on the counter and grabbed his wallet and keys from the table. ' As ready as I'm ever gonna be.'

We walked out to our Mustang hand in hand and before we parted to get into our respective seats I reached up and gave him a big hug, squeezing him tightly, then kissed him on the cheek. ' It's gonna be okay...you'll see. And remember I'm right here beside you. If you want to leave, just say the word and we'll be gone.'

He stood there, his arms wrapped around me tightly and bowed his head into my hair. ' I don't know what I would ever do without you, Faith.' He murmured. ' You're my life.'

We got in the car and buckled our belts and started off down the driveway, my knees practically knocking together from the anxiousness I felt inside. We stopped at Denny's and grabbed a couple of coffee's for the drive and then headed to Queens. It took but a few minutes to find the enormous house on Gamwell Avenue. It was set back in off the road with a long driveway. It was a colonial style brick with green ivy growing up the sides, enter twining with itself and making it look like a jungle paradise. The entire front of the house was preceded by a long, concrete galerie. There were huge white pillar columns on either side of the portico that ended with ornate carvings of something that I couldn't see from that distance. The shutters on the windows were black with white curtains hanging inside. There was a huge gazebo with a black shingled top in which to sit and gaze out at the cars and people walking or diving by.

Bosco whistled, impressed. ' That is one friggin house, huh?' He said as he parked the car between a sleek looking black Mercedes and a blue Lexus convertible.

' Nice cars.' I commented, feeling a little overwhelmed by the opulence and richness of just the outside of the house and the expensive automobiles. Next to these people we were dirt poor. I clicked off my belt and turned to face him.

'Ready?'

'Yup. Let's do it.' He said bravely, exiting the car and coming around to my door, which he opened for me.

I stepped out and smoothed my skirt down and ran my hands through my hair, and for some reason I didn't want to have one hair out of place. I hadn't realized that we were going to the home of such wealth and wondered about the people who lived within.

'You look fine. Don't worry about what anyone else thinks.' He said with surprising bitterness, which I realized instantly was his nervousness seeking an outlet.

We walked hand in hand up the front steps and walked across the gallerie to the front door. It was red with a shiny brass knocker. I looked around, interested in the various flowers and plants that filled the whole porch area. There were benches at each end, wicker with soft padded cushions that made me want to sit down and fall asleep while reading a good book. In front of each bench was a wicker coffee table that held various magazines. The whole scene looked like something out of one of my decorating magazines.

Seconds later, the door swung open and an elderly man appeared. Was it Arthur? I widened my eyes, terribly excited at that moment.

He looked about eighty or so, but I wasn't sure. He was about five foot seven or eight with dark hair and eyes. His hair, or what was left of it, was parted down the middle, and looked like it had been dyed many times over. He wore a dark suit with a green tie and a pair of dark dress shoes. I sucked in my breath, trying to see any similarities between my husband and this man before me. He smiled winningly at us, his eyes sparkling. I liked him right away.

' Hello, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Boscorelli...come right in.' He said in a deep voice, stepping back so we could enter.

' Hello, are you Arthur?' Bosco asked, swallowing and squeezing my hand hard. I could feel the sweat of his hand clinging onto mine.

The older gentleman laughed, a deep chuckle and shook his head. ' I'm afraid not. My name is Otis Lange. I am Mr. Logan's butler.'

Mr. Logan...so that was his name. Arthur Logan. Well, he must have been quite well off to have a butler. We stepped inside and Otis shut the heavy door behind us.

I almost gasped, but knew instinctively that it would have been in bad taste to display such mannerisms. We stood in a grand foyer that was as big as our living room at home. It had a white marble floor that echoed with our steps, with a huge tear-drop chandelier hanging from the ceiling that looked like huge diamonds. To the left and the right of us were large paintings that looked old and very expensive, hung with care to please and impress its viewers. There were vases filled with flowers, roses, daffodils and daisies set upon gold trimmed stands and an ornately carved hall tree that held some hats and a ivory cane. Before us, the grand staircase that was made of white marble, loomed, complete with a shiny balustrade that I imagined might have had children sliding down it for fun. The stairs were covered with a thin red carpeting down the middle, adding to the rich look and making my mouth hang open.

' Right this way' Otis said, holding out his arm indicating that we follow him to the left.

We walked into a large living room that was at least the size of our kitchen and living room combined. It had three large black leather sofa's with matching easy chairs and leather ottoman's to put your feet up on, along with a huge coffee table that was almost the size of my dining room table at home. There was an ivory hand carved chess set in the middle, with some candles and magazines as well. To the back of the room was a large fireplace with a mantle made of red brick that climbed to the top of the ceiling, making it look larger than it actually was. There were more paintings hung on the spacious walls and various works of art displayed on long side tables. To the right was a long bar with at least six stools sitting lined up in a row. There was a long mirror behind it lit up with tiny lights.

I turned myself around the room, taking everything in, amazed and beguiled by what I saw.

'Can I get you a drink, Mr. Boscorelli, Mrs. Boscorelli?' Otis asked pleasently.

I shook my head. It was only ten o'clock in the morning but Bosco nodded and asked for a shot of whiskey. He was so nervous I was sure he was on the verge of passing out. Otis moved swiftly behind the bar and got Bosco his shot.

' Have a seat anywhere you like. I will return shortly.' Otis said, and excused himself to go find his benefactor.

Bosco looked absolutely terrified as he downed his shot quickly and set the glass on the bar. It clanked loudly. He walked over to one of the sofas and sat down, his knee shaking. He swallowed heavily and held out his hand to me. 'Come here and sit with me.' I walked over and sat next to him and held his hand.

' Sure is a nice place, huh?' I said softly, hoping to take some of the tension from the moment.

He looked around. 'Too rich for my blood.' He said and then stopped. This man was his blood. The joke didn't apply.

'What do you think he does? I mean, he must do something important to live in a place like this...it's a palace!' I whispered.

'I dunno...but he sure as hell doesn't look like he needs any help.' He muttered looking around.

He tightened his grip on my hand as we heard voices coming toward us. My heart beat in tripple time and my hands were just as sweaty as Bosco's. I glanced over at him, so terribly afraid that he was going to be upset by this meeting. He chewed on his bottom lip and I could see the perspiration that had broken out on his forehead. Just in time, I reached over with my free hand and wiped it away.

'Here we go...here we go...' He muttered.

A second later, Otis walked through the door, guiding an elderly man much older than he, by the arm. He was about five foot ten or so, or he would have been if he had been able to stand up to his full height. He was shuffling along slowly, his head raised, his eyes wide with anticipation at seeing us for the first time.

I brought my hand to my throat and gasped. He was an exact duplicate of what I imagined Bosco would look like at that age.


	19. In My Father's House

Bosco and I sat side by side, so close together we looked like one person, as his father approached the leather couch opposite us. He wore a dark blue velvet smoking jacket with black dress pants and black velvet slippers. He looked very dapper and aware for a man who seemed so old. He smiled widely, looking very pleased to see us there. Otis held onto his arm as he slowly guided Arthur down into a comfortable position.

I could not get over how much Bosco resembled his father. They were about the same height, with the same rich texture to their hair, although Arthur's hair had long since turned from brown to a very dark silver. Their eyes were the exact shade and they had the same smile that gently rippled from the corners of their mouths to their cheeks. I knew that Bosco had gotten his infectious smile from the paternal side of his family. Arthur's face was still very handsome and I could tell that underneath the weather lines and the deep creases he was just as handsome as his son was now, in his younger days. He reminded me of James Brolin, the famous actor who had been married to Barbara Streisand. His jaw was firm and well shaped, showing off his high cheek bones to perfection. He smiled at us with perfectly spaced white teeth.

'Will that be all sir?' Otis asked pleasantly, but with great professionalism.

'Yes Otis, thank you.' Arthur said softly, leaning forward slightly to get a good look at the son he had never seen.

'Very well, sir. I shall be in the common room if you need anything else.' Otis said with a little bow, then turned and walked quickly from the room.

Bosco hand tightened around mine and I felt his fear and nervousness as if we were connected by an invisible wire. He stared at the man who had given him half of his genes, obviously shocked to see the similarities that they shared. I glanced over at him and saw that his eyes were wide and his jaw was tight. He always clenched his teeth when he was nervous or upset. Right then, I'd say that he was both.

'Well, hello there. You're Maurice.' He said slowly, stating the obvious.

'Hello...Arthur.' Bosco said awkwardly.

'Thank you for coming to see me. I had my doubts as to whether or not you'd come.' He said sincerely.

'I...well...I thought that it was about time that we met.' Bosco said, running his free hand over his hair.

'It was entirely too long in the making, I'd say.'

'You're right...Arthur...I...feel the same.'

'Yes...I have waited for this day for many years and I must confess, I'm a little nervous.' Arthur said, truthfully. 'I bet you both have a million and one questions for me. I'll try and answer them to the best of my ability.'

'Uh...ya...about a million at least...' Bosco said, looking over at me. I squeezed his hand again.

He then looked at me. 'And this lovely lady must be your wife, Faith.' He smiled kindly at me, his eyes sparkling. He looked so happy.

'Hello Arthur, it's nice to meet you.' I said politely, smiling at him.

'How did you know her name?' Bosco asked, confused, for he hadn't mentioned me in his short conversation the night before.

Arthur chuckled, amused. 'I know a lot about you...Rose told me that you were getting married years back and she told me that you were marrying a lovely woman named Faith.'

Bosco's eyebrows raised. 'You talked to my mother? Why didn't she tell me about you before? Why did you wait so long to contact me?'

Arthur looked away for a second before answering, lost in a memory of yesterday. 'Yes..My dear, sweet Rose...she was the apple of my eye, you know. She could make me run to her like a dog to a bone.' He smiled, remembering.

'Rose and I kept in contact through the years and she always let me know how you were doing. I wanted to get to know you for a long time, but she didn't think it would be a good idea. Thought it would confuse you.'

Bosco blanched, not quite sure how to digest that information. 'You mean you two kept in contact even when she was married to my fa...Anthony? How did that work?'

'It didn't'. He said sadly. " It was mostly me asking her to send pictures of you and begging her to tell me what was going on in your life, but after a while she began to resist, saying that Anthony was starting to get suspicious. I begged her to leave him, even after she had your brother. I would have put them up somewhere and taken care of them, but she wouldn't leave him.'

'Put her up some place nice? Why not with you?'

Arthur took a deep breath and looked away, ashamed. 'I'm not going to lie to you, Maurice...It wouldn't be fair after all of these years, and I'm so old now. I just want to do what's right. I was married when I met your mother. Married with a baby on the way.' He confessed, sadly.

'You were married...that's why...' Bosco whispered. 'I should have known as much.'

He nodded. 'I was only thirty years old, which makes me eighty-seven, and I had been married for less than three months to Caroline, whom I called Caro for short, when I met Rose at her father's bar. She was a server then, you know. She was so beautiful with those deep blue eyes and that long hair. She was only twenty years old and she had more charisma and sexuality radiating from her than half of New York City. She knew how much I wanted her but she turned me down time and time again. I would come into the Haven's after a long day at the office and order a beer with a whisky chaser. I didn't even drink, but I had to see her. She was like a drug and I was addicted from the first time I saw her. I know it was wrong. I was married and she was courting this Anthony Boscorelli guy, but he didn't treat her right. I could see it in the way that he'd come to the bar, all liquored up, watching all the rest of the guys to make sure no one hit on her. He was one jealous sonofagun, he was.

I couldn't understand what she saw in him and every time I asked her she'd look at me, coy like, and bat her lashes and say, '_You're married, Artie. That's your answer_.'I knew that if I hadn't been married to Caroline that she'd probably have run away with me, but I couldn't change the past. I realized after I met Rose that I had made a terrible mistake in marrying Caro just because I had gotten her pregnant, but I came from a very old traditional Catholic family and divorce was forbidden, especially when she was carrying my child.' He stopped to see if we were paying attention, or to see if he was upsetting Bosco in any way, looking at us closely.

Both Bosco and I were enraptured by his story. It told so much, so many things about the woman who had given birth to my husband, about why she was so unhappy in her marriage to Anthony, among other things. She had been in love with Arthur Logan. Poor Rose, I thought. We were anxious to hear the rest.

'Is what I'm telling you okay?' Arthur asked softly, seemingly sensitive to our feelings.

'It's fine. I'm glad I'm finally getting to hear the truth.' Bosco said encouragingly, letting go of my hand and leaning forward to give Arthur his undivided attention. He rested his hand on his knees, his fingers entertwined.

'Faith?' Arthur looked to me for my answer. He was obviously a very educated man who had been schooled in the area of fine manners. He was very elegant as he spoke.

'Oh? Yes...it's fine. Please go on.'

He tilted his head back and cocked it to the side. 'Well...where was I...Oh yes!' He said triumphantly, very proud of remembering the thought. 'Well, anyway, I finally convinced her to have dinner with me, although it took a couple of months...and she agreed solely because Anthony was out of town for a few weeks at some kind of family emergency..whatever...I didn't care what it was as long as I got to see her. We had dinner at an out-of-the-way place in Manhattan and talked till the sun came up. Finally, around dawn, we crawled into bed at the hotel room I'd rented and caught some...well...some sleep and...'

He cleared his throat, his implication quite clear. 'Anyway, we saw each other a few times intimately after that and not soon after, she told me that she was pregnant. I begged her to let me put her up somewhere nice...that I'd take care of her and our child...but she refused and told me that if I didn't leave Caro, that she would never let me be with her. I raged at her, terribly upset that she wouldn't give it a shot with me, and that I couldn't leave now, not with a new baby daughter being born less than

eight weeks previous...She told me that my daughter, Cara, would never know her half sibling unless I divorced my wife and married her.

My wife was very unhappy with me for spending so much time away from home, nights even, and eventually she figured out what was going on between me and another woman and she threatened to take Cara and leave for good. I knew she'd make good on her word, too, for her family had connections all over the world and would be able to hide her easily enough...and I'd have never seen my beautiful little girl again. I couldn't risk losing both of my children and I had to tell Rose that I simply could not go through with it. In the end she told me to get the hell out of her life.'

Bosco nodded sympathetically, feeling sorry for Arthur.

'Oh don't worry.' He chuckled, lost again in another memory of Rose. 'She didn't mean it. She was hurt, after all, and I had been responsible for that hurt. It was only a few months later that she married Anthony Boscorelli. He knew you weren't his child but he married her anyway and I'm sure he punished her in ways that I don't want to know about...anyway, after you were born she called me from her room. Anthony had gone home or back to work or where ever it was that he went and she told me that I had a son. She told me that I could name you, too.' Bosco's eye brows raised in surprise.

'You named me?' Bosco squeaked, so shocked to learn that someone other than Rose had named him.

'Yes...she said that at least if I wasn't going to be part of your life that I should get to name you something special and so I named you after my grandfather, Maurice Logan, who was one of the greatest architects that New York has ever seen.' He said proudly, puffing his chest out like a peacock.

Then he stopped talking and wiped a hand over one brow, as if the story was draining him of any energy he might have possessed previously.

'Can I get you some water or something?' Bosco asked, standing up.

'What a thoughtful person you are...but I need to finish my story for you first...then you must stay for dinner and we can continue getting to know one another...you will stay, won't you?' He asked anxiously, from one of us to the other.

Bosco nodded and sat back down. This time he leaned back on the couch, seemingly more relaxed, although I thought this new information was coming at him too fast and we would probably be in for it later, but I was very interested to learn all I could about Bosco's real father.

'She sent me pictures every so often of you. Your grade one picture and grade two, I think...yes and even your grade three picture...but it got too hard to keep seeing this son that I could never claim. Caro was very understanding and cooperative of my situation after I told her that I would never see Rose intimately again...she didn't so much love me as she loved the money behind me and we stayed together for Cara's sake. She didn't so much as have to lift a finger because I had so much money and she had basically blackmailed me with my own child as bait. We had another baby four years after Cara, a son, whom we called Mackenzie, or Kenzie for short. He was a lovely boy, so bright and sincere. He had the same eyes that you do and your hair.' Arthur said, tears welling up in his eyes.

He looked away for another moment to compose himself. He breathed in deeply and looked up at the ceiling, as if to offer up a prayer for God to heal his open wounds that had embedded themselves upon his soul.

' Cara and Kenzie grew up in this house, surrounded by all of the fine things in life. They had everything that they ever could have wanted. That also applied to my wife, Caro, and she took every opportunity to let me suffer for what I had done wrong...but she was a classy woman, a real dame, as they say, and she got so that she could live totally apart from me, although we were living in the same house. She lavished herself day in and day out with my money and spent less and less time with our children. She always had a party to go to, a dinner or a broadway play and by the time Cara was fifteen and Kenzie was eleven, she hardly knew either one of them. And then, one day while I was at the office, Cara and Kenzie were walking to the park down the street and Kenzie was hit by a car. Hit and run driver who never even stopped to see how my son was. He just drove away like a thief in the night...'

I felt tears stinging behind my eyes, burning, the way they always did when I heard about someone who lost a child. Even though it had been years and years since Emily and Charlie had died, it still felt new and just as hurtful as it had the day they had died. I knew how painful and devastating it was. I wiped my eyes quickly, not wanting him to see and be upset.

' Cara ran to the nearest house and banged on the door until someone let her in and called an ambulance. By the time they got him to the hospital it was too late and my son was dead. I cannot describe to you how painful it was for me, for Cara. I raced from my downtown office and hailed the nearest cab and screamed for him to get me to Mercy Hospital as fast as he could. I ran in the front door and saw Cara standing with her back against a wall, her small shoulders shaking with sobs. As soon as she saw me she screamed out 'daddy, Kenzie's gone! He's gone!' Arthur replayed the whole scene to perfection and I actually felt as though I had known Kenzie and Cara.

'That's awful. I'm so sorry, Arthur' I whispered, hoping he could see the sincerity in my eyes.

He nodded, tears now trickling down his lined face. 'The worst part of it was that I had always told the children not to go to the park without one of us present. I worried about them and I always had a protective way about me...and Caro and I fought about it a lot. She thought I was babying them by wanting them to have adult supervision, and had given them permission to go out that day...essentially, I felt that it was her fault. I blamed her. I cursed her. I hated her.' He said bitterly. But enough about the sad things I have gone through in my life. I want to hear about you two, how you met. Do you have children?'

Before Bosco or I could answer, Otis came into the room and cleared his throat. ' Would you like me to set two extra places for lunch, sir?'

' Oh yes, please do, Otis.' Arthur said becoming happy again, beaming a broad smile in our direction. 'I would be very pleased if you would stay.'

'Uh...yes..thanks.' Bosco said, after looking at me for my confirmation. I nodded and smiled at Arthur. ' We'd love to stay.'

After Otis left to give his order to the chef to prepare extra food, Bosco began our story. I curled my feet up beneath me and sank back deeper into the leather sofa to listen.

' Well, Faith and I met in the Police Academy years ago and we became partners when we joined the 55th precinct. We stayed partners until we finished our service with the city. We have three children, Mike, Brett and Emma and a granddaughter named Faith, but we call her Little Faith. We probably shouldn't, but we spoil her something awful. ' Bosco explained, happily. If there was one thing he was comfortable about it was talking about our children and Little Faith.

' Three children and one grandchild? How wonderful!' Arthur exclaimed. ' I have a granddaughter too and have always enjoyed spoiling her to no end.'

' Mike is twenty-six, Brett is twenty-four and Emma is twenty-two and Little Faith is almost two.'

' What do they do?' Arthur pursued, genuinely pleased to hear about the family he had never known.

'Well, Mike is a police officer and Brett is a writer and Emma is a consultant at a large firm in the city. Brett lives in Boston and he teaches writing at Harvard University.' He said proudly. ' Faith and I look after Little Faith most days when Emma is at work. We get to spend as much time with her as we want now that we're both retired.'

' I would love to meet them someday.' Arthur said softly, his face turning sad again. ' I hope that you will let me...do you think that would be possible?'

Bosco and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. I mean we had just met this man and we didn't even know him yet. We hadn't told any of the kids about him either. I shrugged my shoulders a bit, indicating that it would be Bosco's decision.

Bosco swallowed and looked at the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts. ' I think that in time you will meet them, but I just met you today and I don't know how they are going to deal with this. We never told them about me having another father other than Anthony and I need time to think about how we are going to break it to them.' He raised his head, a painful expression on his face.

Arthur looked crushed, but covered it well. 'I will wait patiently for that day, Maurice, after all, I've waited fifty-seven long years to be united with you.'

'But Faith and I would be willing to come again and visit you...that is if you want us to.'

Arthur beamed, grateful for that small favor. ' Yes. I would love for you to visit again, any time. You have a sister to meet and a niece, too.'

Bosco looked frightened for a moment and sat back against the coolness of the couch. He crossed one leg over his knee and began to shake his foot. ' I forgot about that. I don't know when I'll be ready for that.' He said softly, not looking at either of us.

Arthur clapped his hands together and smiled. 'Of course. When ever you are ready, just let me know. Cara knows all about you and wants to meet you as soon as possible. She wanted to be here today but I told her that she had better wait.'

With that, Otis showed us all into the dining room. There was a huge cherry wood table, similar to the one we had at home, but his one seated up to twelve people. There was a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, raining diamonds down upon us and a breakfront that held different cups and saucers in all patterns of expensive looking china. There was also crystal goblets lined up on the top shelf and a huge painting of a lady in a garden that was carrying a basket of vegetables.

We sat down at the three places that had been set for us. I marveled at the cutlery, the plates and the crystal goblets that contained some kind of wine. There was a white silk table runner that covered the entire middle section of the table and draped over both ends and two silver candelabra in the middle, their bone white candles lit. We were to eat off of heavy looking crystal plates, which I had never seen before.

Otis served us a wonderful lunch of beef wellington with mashed potatoes and baby carrots smothered in some kind of brown sugar sauce. It was delicious and I had to force myself not to lick the plate when I was finished. We had a chocolate pie with whip cream and coffee for desert. I felt so full I thought my stomach was going to explode.

Throughout our meal, Arthur asked more questions about our family and told us more about Caro, who had died shortly after Kenzie had, leaving father and daughter alone. Cara was an actress and worked on a soap opera that I watched as often as I could. It was called ' In love & Lust. It excited me to think that I could meet her someday, considering that I loved her show and the character she played. On the show, she was a mean and feisty socialite who made trouble everywhere she went, breaking up families and having affairs all over the place. I hoped that when we got to meet her she would be nothing like her character on tv.

As we were getting ready to leave, we thanked Arthur and promised to come back in a week or so to have lunch with him again. I had promised him that I would bring pictures of our children and Little Faith and had decided that I would spend my free time during the next week making him a scrapbook that he could treasure, and I knew he would.

Spending the morning with him, I felt that he was a sincere man who had been deprived of a life of love and he had spent every day of the last fifty-seven years feeling guilty for what he had done to Rose and his son. I liked him and I was so glad that we had come to meet him. I was happier than I had been in a long time.

But like happiness, like the sun, only comes out for a few short hours and then leaves you in darkness, wondering when you will see it again. Like the fools we always were, we believed that this meeting marked the beginning of something special, that it was destiny calling us.

Neither Bosco or myself had any idea of the trouble that was yet to come.


	20. The Past And The Present

**The Past And The Present**

For the next three days Bosco didn't do much but go out to his workshop and make plans for the new bench that would go in the hallway. I very much doubted that he had started it, and my suspicions were confirmed when I went outside to the garage and saw that nothing had been worked on. I never mentioned it to him, knowing that he would open up to me when he felt he was ready.

I did all I could to try and bring him back from the doldrums, but it was no use. He was quiet, moody and sullen, barely speaking two words to me. He was having a hard time dealing with the fact that he had met his birth father. I couldn't blame him for it, though. I probably wouldn't have done much better. In fact, I would have been in bed, crying and wondering how this could have happened to me. He was always the strong one. Or at least that was the way I saw it. I knew that he would come around eventually and I thanked God for letting me know him so well. He would, in an instant, snap out of his reverie and ask me what he should do. It had been that way for years.

It was Wednesday afternoon and I was planning on taking Little Faith to the park for her late stroll when the phone rang. I expected that it was Emma, telling me that she was going to be late picking the baby up. It was fine by me; where else did I have to go?

I had been cutting up carrots, turnip and potatoes to go into a stew that I was making for supper. I set down my pairing knife and wiped my hands on a dishtowel and walked over to answer.

"Hello?"

"Ma? It's Brett.."

"Brett! How are you? Is everything ok?" I asked.

"I'm fine...look...I wanted to know if you'd fly out here to be with Carly. She only has three days before her due date and I don't want to leave her alone." His deep voice asked.

"Where are you going?" I asked, feeling my stomach tighten up into knots.

"Uh...I'm leaving." He stated. "I know you have heard all of the details and no, I _don't _want to discuss them with you. I'm going to Japan to teach English. I'm leaving tomorrow."

I couldn't talk...I couldn't even breathe, but why I was surprised was beyond me. After all, it wasn't like it was any big news. After Mike slept with his brother's wife, it was surely just a matter of time before Brett left her. But it hurt, nonetheless. I tried to swallow back the tears that threatened to break lose at any moment.

"Ma?"

"I'm...here." I managed to say. My heart was thumping, thinking about everything that had happened in the last few months.

"Can you come?" He asked softly.

Could I come? That was a question that I preferred not to answer at this point in time...could I come to Carly and give her comfort, knowing what she and my second son had done? I felt torn in two, stretched out, from one end to the other. What would Bosco say? Could I leave Bosco at a time like this and what about Little Faith? Who would watch her if Bosco couldn't?

On the other hand, if I agreed to go to Carly I could make Brett sit down and talk to me, I thought to myself. I could tell him that if he wants me to go to Boston that he would have to let me in on what was going on. It was blackmail, but it was motherly blackmail and that didn't count.

"Alright...I'll come on one condition." I said, starting to pace around my enormous kitchen.

"And what would that be?" He asked dryly.

"I'll come if you tell me what is going on with you. With the..." I almost said 'gambling', but remembered that he might be angry with Carly for having spoken about their problems behind his back.

"with you and your brother." I finished.

"For one..." He stated firmly, his voice taking on a crisp tone. "Don't refer to him as my brother...because he's not. Any brotherly relationship that we had was gone the moment he slept with my wife. And two, my personal life, what has happened with him and me is my own business. If you want to know then you can ask him."

Again, I was stunned by his coldness, his complete detachment from me as my son. I knew that the relationship I had once cherished and needed was not real. He never wanted me to know him, or anyone else for that matter. He had been gone so long that he had reinvented himself, either that or I had never known him at all.

"I...just want to talk to you. I love you and I want to be here for you." I said softly, hoping to appeal to his sensitive side. I heard the back door open and Bosco came inside, completely ignoring my presence and walked into the laundry room to rummage around for something. I didn't want him to hear the conversation, so I headed around the corner and went into the hallway.

"Talk to me? About what? You just want to do what you always do, mom." He accused brokenly, "Lecture me and tell me what you think I should do. Well, what do you think I should do now? Keep living with her after she betrayed me? Or pretend that this child is mine and not my brothers? _What_, exactly, is it that _I_ should do?"

I couldn't help myself. I put my hand over my mouth to cover up the sound of my sobs. I closed my eyes and tried to will the tears to stay behind my lids, but they spilled forth and then I was bawling, really bawling.

"I'm sorry...I wanted...to...help...you. You're my...my son...and I don't want you to be hurt..." I cried harshly, through ragged breaths.

"He's here, you know. Staying at some hotel. I saw him yesterday."

"Who? Mikey?" I gasped, knowing how much that had to hurt my son. "He's in Boston?"

"Yep. He came on his vacation claiming that he wants to make sure that Carly's baby, _his_ baby, arrives safe and sound." He said bitterly. "The bastard had the nerve to ask me if he could stay with us."

Oh damn him. Double damn him! How could he do this to Brett, to Carly, to us? I didn't know that he was on vacation, and it wasn't like I could have stopped him even if he'd told us, but it hurt to know that there was so much more going on in my children's lives than I knew.

"Please stay! Don't go yet...I'll fly out the next flight they have...just meet me. Please, Brett. I'm dying here...please." I begged, pacing the hall until the cord wouldn't go any further and yanked me back a bit. "I want to see you...if you're going to Japan than please let me come and see you before you go...me and dad. Just tell me that you'll wait."

I made my way back into the kitchen to see if Bosco was around. He wasn't. The silence on the other line was eternal and I could hardly breathe as I waited to see if Brett would wait for me. It was only an hour by plane and we could be out the door in five minutes if we had to.

"Brett?"

"What?"

"Will you wait or not?"

I held my breath as I waited.

"I dunno...I guess I could. I'm gonna be gone for eight months at the least." He said reluctantly, as if it really were a chore to set aside a day for his parents.

"Eight months! Are you serious? How could you..." I started to yell, and abruptly closed my mouth. If I had a chance in hell of him talking to us I couldn't blow it now, before we were even off the ground.

" Are you coming or not?" He practically barked through the phone.

I decided right there and then that if I wanted to let Brett know how much I cared for him that I had to do this. "Yes. I'll come."

"What about dad?"

"I havn't asked him yet...I havn't had the chance." I said a little irritated.

"The next flight leaves in an hour which means you'll be here by eight or nine. I'll pick you up at Logan." He said and hung up in my ear.


	21. Tiny Cracks

It took me all of about five minutes to pack my bags and call Rob at work and explain to him that I had an emergency and that he needed to come and get Little Faith. Now.

I had run out to the garage where Bosco was sitting on his workbench, not a sign of him doing anything resembling working with wood, and stuck my head in the door and told him he needed to get into the house and get packed because we were going to hop the next plane to Boston.

"What?" He asked, turning toward me, his eyes all scrunched up, not understanding. "Did the baby come yet?"

"I don't have time to tell you now, Bosco..but Brett called and said that he needs us to come out there...he's leaving for Japan tomorrow." I added, before I ran back into the house. I knew that would get his attention.

I got Little Faith up from her nap and changed her diaper and put a new outfit on her before I carried her down stairs and put her down on the kitchen counter while I got a snack of carrots and grapes for her to eat.

"Gamma...what doin?" She asked, her little hands outstretched, as she watched me grab stuff from the fridge.

"Gamma has to go on a plane and I need to get ready." I explained as fast as I could. I grabbed my purse off the counter and rifled through my wallet, making sure that I had my Visa with me. It was there. I sighed with relief. At least I knew that I had about three thousand dollars on it so I wouldn't run out of money.

Ten minutes had passed and I realized that Bosco wasn't in the house getting ready. I grabbed Little Faith off the counter and went out the back door and down the stairs toward the garage. He was still sitting in the same spot as he had been when I left.

"What are you doin?" I yelled, balancing my granddaughter on my hips, then lowered my voice before I scared the baby.

He didn't even look up at me. Just got off the stool and shoved it underneath the bench. He turned his back to me and walked over to a handyman book that was sitting on the shelf and grabbed it and started flipping through the pages.

"I'm not going." He said quietly.

"What? What do you mean? He called...he wants us there...the plane leaves in an hour..." I started.

"I said, I'm not going." He turned to face me, as serious as I'd seen him in a long time. "And you can leave her here with me. I'll look after her until Rob comes." He put his arms out toward Little Faith. "Come to Gapa, princess."

"Bosco...we need..." I said, as Little Faith squirmed in my arms to go to her grandfather. I finally set her down and she ran to him, her little arms outstretched.

"Leave it alone. I'm not going." He stated firmly, as he reached down and picked her up and rained kisses on her face and nose. "And no...I don't want to talk about it." He added, looking over her shoulder at me. He walked past me and out into the driveway.

I put my hands on my hips, not sure what to say. I was going to lose this argument for sure. Both my husband and my son were so much alike, it was infuriating. I turned and followed him out.

"Can I at least ask why? Why you are turning your back on your son when he needs you?"

He winced. "That's a little bit of a low blow, isn't it?"

I felt guilty for being mean. "I mean, why won't you come? I don't understand...he's your son. Why won't you come with me? You're going to have another grandchild in three days...please come...if not for him...for me." I pleaded.

We both stopped talking when Rob's car came tearing into the driveway. He jumped out and ran towards us, a worried look on his tanned face. Rob was a very handsome man, a man that any woman would be proud to be with, and he was an excellent father. He always reminded me of Pierce Brosnan, he was so handsome. At least one of our children had it right.

"What's the emergency? Is everything ok?" I asked, as he approached us. He had on a pair of tanned colored kakhi shorts and a blue golf shirt and sneakers. He didn't look like he had been working, but what did I know. Maybe they had a casual day or something.

"Daddy...daddy." chanted Little Faith, happy to see her father. Bosco handed her over to Rob and walked away from us and up the steps to the back door. He opened it and the screen door slammed behind him.

"What's wrong with him?" Rob asked.

"He's worried about Brett...he called us and wants us to get the next plane to Boston and Bosco doesn't want to go." I explained as we walked back toward the car.

"Well, I hope it goes okay." He said as he snapped the baby in her seat. "Call us if you need anything." He added, getting into the driver's seat.

"Thanks Rob and I'm sorry for getting you to leave work early to get her. I guess you drove pretty fast, huh?"

He gave me a queer look, kind of like I had treaded onto something that he didn't want to discuss and nodded. "Okay, call us when you get back. Don't worry, Faith..my mom will take care of her."

"Bye baby girl. I said, and waved at my beautiful granddaughter. She waved back and smiled at me.

I went inside and upstairs to our bedroom and found Bosco lying on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. He was watching General Hospital.

"Are you going to tell me why you won't come with me or do I have to guess?" I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

"I'll tell you why but you're not gonna like it." He said looking up at me. He gave me 'the' look. The one he always put on his face when he was confident about something. I didn't doubt it.

"So...what is it? I...I mean 'we'" I corrected myself. "have to be at the airport in thirty minutes." I came further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed anxiously.

"I'm not going because it's just another mellow drama in the waiting. This baby, the whole thing...it's too much to handle. They don't want our help. They want to do it by themselves and I'm not getting involved." He stated simply, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his seriousness.

"Not getting involved? What the hell does that mean?" I shrilled, throwing my hands up in the air. "This whole thing involves you because you are _their_ father...not someone else.._you_...and you need to get your ass in gear and come with me to Boston." I was losing control quickly, but my stress level had just bumped up a few hundred notches in the last half hour.

He sat up quickly, his eyes blazing. "I know who _I _am...but the question is do _you_? You have to have your nose into everything, Faith. You have to run out the door the second he calls...when I bet he treated you like shit on the phone, didn't he?" He accused.

I didn't answer. He knew the way that Brett had been treating me. I looked away, tears starting down my face again.

"That's what I thought." He said sharply, his head bobbing up and down. "And I, for one, am not hopping my ass on a plane to go and break up whatever fight is in the works down there. I can't help him out of this situation and neither can you. Tell me why he called. Tell me what he said...this thing about Japan or what ever God-forsaken place he's going. It's not our business."

I looked back at him, my lips trembling and took a deep breath. "He said he needs us to go and stay with Carly because he's leaving her. This time, he's running away to Japan to teach English..and he's not waiting to see about the baby..." I wailed.

Bosco had no sympathy. "It's not his child, Faith. What would you have him do? Run back to her and raise the kid as his own?"

Indignantly, I wiped the tears off of my face. "That's a terrible thing to say! You wanted to raise Emily and Charlie as your own...what's the difference?" I could feel myself heating up. We were heading for a real fight, perhaps the first big fight we'd had for years.

He pointed his finger at me. "_That_ was different and you _know_ it! Don't bring Emily and Charlie into this! Be reasonable...you know that there is _no way _in hell that Brett is gonna be able to stay with her after she has his brother's baby! He'd do more harm than good...think about it! He wants you to come down there and stay with her so he doesn't feel guilty for abandoning her...when he damn well has every right to do just that!"

"You don't mean that!"

"So help-me-God, I do! I swear to you Faith, that I could kill both of my sons for getting themselves into this mess! He shouldn't stay with her and Mikey shouldn't be around her either...but there is a baby's life in the balance here and none of them should have it! I don't know what I think and I don't know what I should say to you, let alone to him or to her, to any of them! This kid needs a father and neither one of them are suitable!

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. "I don't know what to tell you...I really don't! He should be mad as hell at her..he _should_ leave her, but on the other hand...he _shouldn't_! This is too messed up and I can't deal with this right now...so go if you want to go, but you'll have to do it without me!" He yelled, his face red as a beet.

"Don't talk to me like that! I'm your wife, not some stranger, Maurice Boscorelli!" I yelled back, getting up off the bed to face him. "I have had your back for too many years to listen to you yelling at me!"

His eyes widened in anger. "What? You yell at me when ever you damn well please so don't give me that shit! You have had my back, it's true, but I'm putting my foot down on this one...I am not going. It is not our business even if he did call and I am not listening to any more of this garbage. I am too angry and hurt to run off and play referee between our two grown children!"

"Fine! Fine! Don't go with me, then! I don't know why I bothered to include you anyway! You don't care what happens! I just may not come back!" I yelled.

"Whatever. Do what you want!" He yelled back and stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door so hard I thought it would come off the hinges.

I grabbed my bags and headed down stairs and called a cab. He didn't follow me. Come hell or highwater, I was going to my son.


	22. Baby Boy

**Baby Boy**

During the flight to Boston I tried to keep myself amused with the latest copy of 'People' magazine. As I flipped through the pages it occurred to me that all of the people inside were just the same as me. With the exception that they were all rich and powerful but they had the same hurts as the rest of us. As dazzling and exciting as their lives were, they all cried the same salty tears and had the same rejections as the normal population had _accept_ that their problems were widely televised and wrote about in every newspaper and magazine known to man.

That had to be the worst part about it. If my husband cheated on me with the executive producer of his show, I sure as hell wouldn't want to read about it in the news. My thoughts turned to my son's and what an article they would make. '_One brother impregnates the other's wife.' _I could see it now. Wow, I was glad that we weren't famous.

I set the magazine into the small pocket on the back of the seat in front of me and folded my hands in my lap. I glanced out the window and wished that I could just fly away from all of my troubles into a land where there was no pain or hurt or betrayal. That was me; forever wishing for something that would never be.

I felt guilty about the fight that Bosco and I had and I knew that I would feel that way until I saw him face to face again. Funny how these things would embed themselves in my conscious and unconscious thoughts until I felt my stomach seize and turn over. I hated fighting with the only man that I had ever truly loved. I knew he was hurting the same as I was but I still felt that he should have come with me. He and I were partners for better or worse, and that included the raising of our children and all that went on with them. And as much as I hated to admit it, and that was why I rarely did, the thought did occur to me that it really wasn't my business unless one of the children brought me into it. In this case, Brett had asked. And so, I was going to see if I could be of assistance to my son and daughter-in-law.

I just hoped that I didn't run into my second son, for fear that I could grab him by the ear and bend him over my knee and let him _know_ just how awful he had been. I desperately hoped that Mikey had come home and was going on with his life. He wasn't needed at the hospital or anywhere near Brett or Carly. Cath was due any day and Bosco and I had both promised to come over to visit as soon as she felt ready. Anger burned in my heart, wondering how a child that had come from my body could act so cruel and unkind. I really didn't know what I'd do if I saw him. I prayed that I wouldn't have to figure it out.

The plane landed uneventfully and I grabbed my carry-on and walked up the ramp and through the small corridor, into the main area. I could see Brett standing on the outside of the glass wall because he had to have a ticket in order to get into the room that the other passengers were in. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a navy blue polo shirt. His expression was grim but his eyes lit up a _bit _when he saw me. He had on a pair of blue Nike sneakers and a blue and red Boston Red Socks baseball cap, with a small lock of his blond hair peeking out from beneath. It had been a while since I had saw him so casual. He still had a wonderful build with his shapely chest and wide shoulders. I noticed how just about every female passerby looked at him, some coyly and some not so much. He had about four or five days growth on his handsome face but that only made him more handsome. I could see the blond stubble on his perfectly shaped jaw.

I missed the days when he was small and counted on me for everything. Those days were gone.

I came though the door and quickened my steps, a kind of desperate anxiousness to finally see him in person. It had been months since I had saw him last and I noticed how thin he had become as I grabbed him into a hug. I could also smell weed on his shirt, something for which I never thought he would go for.

"Hey ma. Thanks for comin'." He said gruffly, pulling away from me and not really looking me in the eye.

"Hi."

He looked around wistfully in the direction that I had come from. "Where's dad?"

I put my head down and let my hair fall in front of my eyes, thus concealing my true feelings. "He's...he had to stay home and look out for Little Faith. He's sorry he couldn't make it." I lied.

"Ma..."

I looked up. His eyes narrowed as he looked me over critically.

"I know he didn't stay home to look after Little Faith. I called dad an hour ago. He told me exactly what he thought of you coming here and why he didn't want to have anything to do with it."

He had checked up on me to see if I would lie. Round one lost.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but he grabbed my carry-on and started to walk away. "I don't blame him. I don't want to be in this situation either." He grumbled as we made our way through the airport.

I had to practically run in order to keep up with his long strides. He didn't say another word to me until we had hopped into a cab. I was desperately trying to figure out what I was going to say to him

It wasn't until we were safely on our way that he spoke to me and actually looked me in the eye. I turned sideways so I could get a real good look at him. He looked tired, really tired and his eyes were bloodshot...maybe that was the weed or maybe he hadn't been sleeping...I couldn't tell. His eyes looked bluer as the lights of the city flashed into the cab.

"Ma, thanks for comin. I know this is hard for you and it's harder for us...but thanks in advance." He said quietly.

I reached over and squeezed his hand lovingly. "It's okay baby. I'm glad to be here. It will be a real nice thing for me to be there when this baby arrives."

"Ya. Another grandchild only this one wasn't wanted." He said matter-of-factly. "And one that will forever remind me about my wife's infidelity and my brother's betrayal. Great way to have a kid." He looked away from me and out the window. He tried to pull his hand away but I tightened my grip on him.

"Brett, I know that this is killing you inside and I'm so sorry for Mike and for Carly and _everything._...I just want you to know that running away isn't going to fix how you feel." I said softly.

He didn't respond.

I took that as an encouraging gesture and continued on. "Honey, do you think that you'll be hurting less when you're in Japan? Do you think that the memories will go away? Please think about it before you leave."

When he turned to me again his blue eyes were full of unshed tears, the pain accentuated within those orbs, making my heart tear and bleed just a little more for what had happened.

He leaned over a bit and looked hard at me and strait in the eye, making sure I understood what he was about to say clearly, very clearly. I could smell the sweetness of his cologne mixed with the contraband substance and at that moment he looked so small and helpless and pitiful. He really couldn't deal with what had happened between Carly and Mike-but who could blame him for it? I sighed as I prepared myself for what he wanted to say.

"Ma- Don't think for one minute that I think going away will make it better. I won't ever forget what he did to me. I will never accept that kid as my own. Never. So don't even try. Mike is welcome to it. Hell, I wish she'd had an abortion."

I felt my heart flip flop at the mention of ending a pregnancy in such a heinous way. I was a firm believer that abortion was nothing but murder. Plain and simple. After many years of hearing about it and learning about it, I had totally changed my mind about the whole thing after seeing pictures of fetus's in garbage cans, their heads and legs and arms ripped off. Who ever passed the law's would surely be burning in hell when they died. I sighed. If no one was going to stand up for the rights of the unborn, who would? And what makes a woman have the right to chose to kill her own child? And I had done the same thing when I was with Fred. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't ask God to forgive me for my sins.

"Don't say that! Don't you dare say something like that. That baby is still your flesh and blood you know it! And nothing, _nothing_ makes it right to kill your own child. I don't care what the circumstances are!" I flared hotly, releasing his hand and putting mine back in my own lap.

I hadn't even seen him for five full minutes and here we were, arguing, when I wanted to be friends.

"Ma..times have changed. It's not murder. It's not even a person until it's born, so don't get all hysterical on my ass about it. I don't care what happens to that baby. I hate it already. I've hated it since the moment she told me that it wasn't mine." He said so coldly and matter-of-factly, that it sent chills down my spine. He truly didn't have one sympathetic bone in his body towards this innocent baby.

"I'm not getting into this with you, Brett. I know what I know and I've done research on it and I've seen the pictures and I have read stories about woman who spend the rest of their lives wondering about the baby that they aborted–"

"Pleeze...ma...just give it a rest." He ordered me. "I don't care about any of that. You're here to be with Carly. She asked for you since her own mother couldn't be here...so please just concentrate on the task at hand. Can you do that for me?" He asked patronizingly, like he was talking to a small child.

I narrowed my eyes and turned to look out my window for a moment. Anger, like a tidal wave, was building up inside my stomach. I clenched my teeth for a minute and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

It wasn't that he was speaking to me disrespectively that bothered me the most. It was the apparent lack of love or feeling or anything accept coldness, that had taken over my third son and made him into someone that I didn't know– at all. I realized that I really didn't know either of my sons. Not having been around Brett for years, I hadn't realized the depth of his nastiness and his cold rebuking words and I actually wondered how Carly had put up with him for so long– or had he just turned like this after the betrayal? Either way, I wasn't putting up with it anymore. I had listened to his rudeness and his callous words, his nasty looks, his yelling and his lying for too long. I had had it.

I turned back to him, my own eyes flashing in anger. When I wanted to, I could have a pretty good way with words. I flicked my eyes toward the front of the cab and saw our driver watching us through the mirror. You couldn't really blame him for listening, we were in his cab discussing our family business. I turned back to Brett, who was looking out the window and ignoring me.

"Brett–"

I breathed in through my nostrils and clenched my teeth together again. "Brett, look at me." I demanded.

When he didn't, I reached over and grabbed his ear and turned his head toward me, roughly.

"What the hell–" He began.

"You listen to me." I said viciously, looking him strait in the eye, my words coming from between my barred teeth. "I am your mother–you got that?"

I waited for him to answer. He nodded, while trying to release himself from my painful grip. I tightened my fingers on his ear and leaned in closer. His eyes widened.

"You do not speak to me like that–do–you–understand?"

"Ma...listen..." He spat back, embarrassed that his mother had him by the ear. It was embarrassing!

"NO–_you_ listen and listen good because I've had about all I'm gonna take from you. I'm here for you! _For you_! You call me up and ask me to come to you and I hopped on a plane as fast as I could to get to you and this is how I'm treated? Like I'm interfering with your life? You Called me! Remember that and for the record–it broke my heart and your fathers heart to know what Mike and Carly did you to...your father cried...do you know that? Cried over how hurt you were and you're acting like a real asshole right now. I am so sorry for what happened to you, but I will not, _I repeat_, will not listen to you talking to me like I'm a child, when in fact, it is _YOU_ who are acting like a child in this situation—"

"I'm not—" He practically yelled, slapping my hand from him and shooting me a hateful look and scooted closer to his side of the cab. "I'm SORRY! I know you're here to help..but you're in my business and you're lecturing me about everything...don't you think I know everything you're tellin me? I know!" He spat. "I know! But do you think that makes it any easier?" He questioned me.

I didn't answer.

"Do you?" He asked again, his eyes about full to overflowing with tears. "Do you think it makes it easier for me when I know that my wife has slept with my brother? Do you think that if I could block it from my memory that I wouldn't? I've loved Carly for my entire life. I love her so much it hurts...physically hurts. I can't get over what happened. I can't do it. So, tell me, what can I do? Stay with her and watch her with my nephew or niece? Pretend that I love this kid that is responsible for ruining my marriage? If she'd only have gotten rid of it this wouldn't be happening."

"The baby isn't responsible for this! Brett, get your head on! It isn't the baby's fault..it's Mikes and Carlys but not that baby's----" I began.

The cab came to a lurching stop outside of Brett's building. Before I could say anymore he had paid the cab driver and got my bags out of the trunk and we were proceeding upstairs to the apartment. How nervous I was thinking about what I'd say to Carly when I saw her. My stomach did a million flip flops as we walked up the narrow carpeted stairway to the second floor where they lived.

He stopped outside of the door and inserted the key and turned the lock. He stepped back to allow me to pass through first and then stepped inside and shut and locked the door. They really did have a beautiful apartment, I thought to myself as I stared at the cozy livingroom and kitchen before me. It was a pretty big apartment that had french doors opening up to a balcony that looked out over the busy city street. They had decorated tastefully and quite in context for two literary students like themselves.

Tall cherry wood bookcases lined one wall, filled to capacity with all kinds of books. There was a forest green couch and love seat along with a matching chair in the middle of the room with a dark pine coffee table in between them. There were magazines on the top of the coffee table along with two pictures in small frames. Even from a distance I could tell that one of them was Sasha and the other was a picture of Brett and Carly with their arms around one another.

I felt a flash of sorrow pass through me as I looked at my dead friend's picture, smiling up at me, her eyes sparkling and happy_. Oh, Sasha, I miss you so._

It was especially difficult to deal with the situation before me when I didn't have my best friend to confer with. Sasha had been the only female that I had become friends with. I wasn't the female bonding type until I met her. We did everything together. Raised our kids together, went shopping, talked on the phone until three in the morning when something was wrong. Even though it had been months since her death, seeing her picture in the apartment of her daughter brought familiar sadness to my heart. I missed her so much it hurt to look at the picture.

Ty had been missing Sasha so much that he was now a daily drinker. He never came over to our house anymore and only went out when he had to. Now that Carly was back in Boston, he didn't have anyone to tell him to get out of bed, to stop drinking himself to death, to eat, to do anything. Tyrone and his girlfriend were too busy raising their son Elijah to be able to spend any amount of real time with Ty and I think that made it worse. And with the news about Carly being pregnant by Mikey, it sent him further and further into his own world. He even refused to discuss the situation with Bosco unless he was drunk, which was most of the time. Thank heavens for Bosco, Ty's one true friend.

Just thinking about my husband made me feel guilty again for the way I had left things. I made a mental note to call him as soon as I could and apologize for my rudeness and insensitivity. I took off my sweater and draped it over the back of the couch and then took off my shoes and set them neatly on the shoe rack beside the door.

Brett kicked off his sneakers and proceeded down the hall, to what I had to presume was his and Carly's bedroom. I took a seat on the couch, tired from my trip and all the emotional tension that had become mine and gazed around at the kitchen area.

There was a round wooden table with four chairs by the large window that was covered by lacy white curtains. The appliances looked shiny and new and the entire place actually looked like it wasn't even lived in. The only thing that gave it away were the two photographs on the coffee table, otherwise the place looked like a bed and breakfast.

"Where's Carly?" I called from my seated position.

He either didn't hear me or just plain ignored my question. I sat back on the couch and swung my legs and propped them up on the coffee table. I was getting so tired that I felt my eyes willing themselves to shut and let me seek the oblivion that comes from being asleep.

A few minutes later Brett came back down the hall and into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses. He was wearing a pair of green pajama bottoms and a white Harvard t-shirt. He made his way over to the love seat and sat down heavily. He opened the wine and poured some in a crystal goblet and handed it to me and then poured one for himself.

"Where's Carly?" I asked again as I took a small sip, wondering if she were asleep or if I should go down to the bedroom and say hello.

He glanced up at me and nodded his head a bit and took a large gulp of the wine and then refilled the glass to the top and took another drink of that. He was obviously fortifying himself for whatever was to come. Nervously, I sat waiting for him to speak. In the silence all I could hear was the tick, tick, ticking of the red clock on the wall next to the couch. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again.

He set his goblet down on the coffee table and leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, lacing his fingers together and looked hard at me. "Ma– I have to tell you something that I couldn't tell you before now." He set his jaw squarely and squinted his eyes.

I sucked in my breath and waited. "Okay, what is it?"

"Carly isn't here." He began. "She's–"

I sat forward and brought my legs down and set them firmly on the floor. "Where is she?" I asked suspiciously.

He licked his bottom lip and looked down at the floor. "She's in the hospital. She wasn't feeling well a few days ago and she started having pains in her stomach and she went to her doctor and he admitted her." He glanced up to look at me for a moment before continuing. "Anyway, she was in labor for quite a few hours before she was admitted and------"

I felt a wash of anger and surprise come over me. I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. "You mean she's been in the hospital for days? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't we go strait over there? Shouldn't someone be there for when she delivers so she doesn't have to be by herself?' I fired my questions one after the other, not giving him a chance to answer.

"Ma...she doesn't need anyone there."

"What? How can you say that? Every woman needs someone there to comfort her and be with her–"

"She doesn't need anyone because–"

I stood up and shook my head at him, utterly disgusted at his attitude. "What kind of man are you, Brett Boscorelli? I didn't raise you to be some pigheaded — "

In a flash he was up from his seated position, standing inches from me, his temper starting to fail him, and he was looking quite like his father at that moment and all I could think about was that this child had come from someone else's womb, because I certainly hadn't raised him to be like _this!_

'She doesn't need anyone there because she already had the baby two days ago. She had a boy. His name is Davis Monroe Boscorelli" he said angrily, saying the name with such disdain it chilled me, dropping the bomb with a huge splash, making me feel sick and confused and dazed all at the same time. He had deliberately lied to me, to everyone.

I felt my legs become like two sticks of butter as I sank slowly back down onto the couch. My head began to pound unmercifully and I had to suppress the urge to run to the bathroom and empty myself into the toilet. I reached up and touched my forehead. It was incredibly hot but my hands were clammy. Brett followed suit and sat back down and refilled both of our glasses and handed one to me. I don't even remember drinking it now. All I could think was _this couldn't be happening...it couldn't be happening._

But it was.


	23. Another Mother

Authors Note: Wellllll...is everyone getting ready for the last three weeks of Third Watch? Are all of you as devastated as I am? Is the same question running through your mind as it is mine? How could they just cut a top rated show that has a huge fan base who are all probably pulling their hair out of their heads? Ahhhhhhhh...tis very sad, my friends, very sad. Well, at least we all have fanfiction to resort to after our show has ended...very sad indeed. And I must say how very disappointed I am in the way that Faith's character has turned out...very nasty woman she turned out to be...just like Bosco said...but in my writing she can always be his partner and his best friend...the beauty of the imagination at work.

**Another Mother**

For the next four and a half hours I sat on that couch and talked with my son about everything that had happened. It seemed to me that Brett had been waiting to talk to me for quite some time but had been too afraid of what his father and I would think of him. Gone was the anger he had so easily displayed, gone was the bitterness toward me for being involved in his life. In its place was a sad, lost little boy who needed his mother.

It took me a good hour or so to get over the shock that my second grandchild had made his way into the world and none of us had known. Not even Ty or any of Carly's family. They didn't want anyone to know, he'd said. He also disclosed to me that Carly was thinking about giving the baby up for adoption, which scared me to death, but he left that topic alone when he saw how upset it made me. I couldn't stand the thought of losing this grandchild, Sasha's grandchild.

Between us, we had drunk three bottles of wine, which had loosened both of our tongues to the point of there not being one secret between the two of us. It felt like I had my son back again. The son who had always come to me for everything, for every problem, every hurt, and it felt good. I couldn't help but wonder if his going away had broken that special bond that we had shared for so many years. Could I have done more? Could I have saved my sons before it was too late? There were so many questions that would have to wait far into the future before they could be answered.

For now, I was content with him opening up to me the way he had when he was a boy. Carly had been admitted to the hospital three days before and had a son whom she had named Davis. Brett admitted that he hated the child upon sight, knowing who Davis's father was, knowing that he could never look at that child as his own. It hurt like hell to hear those words, but I remained silent and let him speak.

It turned out that Carly had been telling me the truth about his gambling problem that day she had come to my house. Brett had been gambling heavily for about three years, and it had started just after they had gotten married. He hadn't seen the signs that he had become addicted until the bills started piling up and there was no way to hide them from his wife. He had become over his head rather quickly and had to confess to her the full extent of the problem the night that she had slept with Mike. Everything had gone down hill from there. It wasn't long after that that they had come home to New York for Christmas vacation and he had learned the baby's parentage. However, he assured me that he was no longer gambling and hadn't for quite some time. I didn't know what to believe.

Oh, how hurt my son was, how devastatingly, morally and heart-wrenching the pain was for him. He cried that night, in my arms like he had when he had been three, four, five, six and even seven. I soothed him as best I could, brushing his golden locks aside and telling him that everything would be alright...and how could I really tell him that?

We had gone to bed around three in the morning and slept in until almost noon. I had fallen asleep without calling Bosco but figured that I would call him before we went to the hospital. Brett had knocked on my door to tell me that the shower was free. I rolled over in the comfy bed that I had spent the night in and scrubbed my face with my palms. My head was pounding so hard I thought that I would need a bottle of Advil to take the pain away.

I got out of bed and looked around the spare room. It was quite small but done up to perfection; the perfect guest room. It had a window facing the street with yellow tab curtains that reached the floor, a white canopy bed, queen sized, with a yellow down duvet and matching pillows. There was a white dresser and a white wicker rocking chair as well. By the foot of the bed was a mahogany hope chest with a yellow and blue knitted blanket folded up. Carly was an amazing decorator. I had thought that this apartment was a two bedroom, not a three. Where was the baby's nursery? I looked around in the closet to see if there was any baby stuff but there were only winter coats and boots and a few boxed of what looked to be like Christmas ornaments. They must have been planning, or she must have been planning to put the baby in their, which was now her, bedroom. That made more sense.

I pushed the thoughts of Brett telling me that Carly had thought about giving the baby up for adoption to the back of my mind as I rummaged through my carry-on to find some clean clothes and my cosmetic case. I chose a pair of pink capri pants and a matching pink tank top with a light cotton sweater to throw over my shoulders in case it was too cold at the hospital. I took everything into the bathroom and set them on the toilet and got into the shower.

After I was finished and dressed I went out into the kitchen and found Brett making breakfast. He already had the table set and was frying a pan of bacon. He smiled when I came into the room and gestured for me to sit down. Coffee was already on the table with cream and sugar setting out. I eased myself into the chair and set about mixing myself a cup.

"Morning ma. I hope you're hungry." He said as he turned back to the bacon. He had on a pair of kakhi shorts and a Red Socks t-shirt and flip-flops. His hair was wet from his shower and he smelled sweet like his aftershave. He had taken the scruff off of his face and he looked even more handsome than I had seen him in a long time.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a bear." I quipped and took a sip of the coffee. He seemed almost happy and carefree and I wondered if it had anything to do with the depth of our talk the night before.

"Well, bacon's almost ready and the toast is in the toaster – or do you want english muffins?"

"Toast is great." I answered. Then I remembered what I had wanted to ask him. "Brett, where is all of the baby's things?"

He set a plate in front of me and went back to the stove to finish his own before he answered me. "We...I mean...she...was taking care of all that stuff. I didn't think the kid would be here so soon, if you know what I mean." He said gruffly. He didn't want to talk about it.

I bit into a piece of bacon and savored the greasy taste. "Ummmm...this is delicious Brett, when did you learn to be such a good cook?" I teased.

He shot me an amused look. "Ma..it's just bacon, nothing special."

"I know. It's just nice of you to feed your mother like this, that's all."

"Well, you are going to be doing a favor for a lifetime." He said. "The least I can do is feed you."

"For a lifetime?"

"I mean of a lifetime."

There was little other conversation between us as we ate, as we were both in our own worlds thinking about our own stuff. I wondered again why they didn't have anything for that baby. Nothing. It seemed really odd for them to not have anything. When I had all of my kids my friends had brought stuff over, my family, co-workers, people I hardly knew. Everyone loved a new baby and couldn't wait to see it. My phone had rung off the hook. There hadn't been one call since I had arrived. It was very strange.

Brett hailed a cab that would take us to the hospital. Once inside the car, I began to ask questions again.

"What time does your plane leave today? I thought you were going this afternoon."

"Not until eight." He answered, looking at the scenery passing by.

"Are you coming in with me?" I asked hopefully, trying to get him to open up to me. But the closer we got to Carly, the more tense he became, as if she had an invisible magnet that was pulling him against its will back to her, where he didn't want to be.

He looked over at me and gave me an irritated look. "I havn't been there the whole time. Why would I start now? I have things to do. I have to pack and all that stuff. Just call me when you're ready to come home and I'll give you the address and you can take a cab."

With that he turned and looked out the window again. I was very annoyed by his attitude but tried to keep my emotions in check for fear of fighting with him again. My thoughts turned back to Carly and my new grandson. Davis Monroe Boscorelli. That brought a smile to my face, imagining my and Sasha's grandson, so small and sweet to hold. I hoped with all of my heart that she hadn't decided to give him up. I had to see her and try to talk her out of it, if that was what she was planning.

On second thought, it seemed, Brett took his apartment keys off of the key ring and handed them to me. "Ma, in case I've gone out, these are my spare set. Don't lose em." He warned.

"Hey." He said to the driver when we pulled up to the main entrance of the hospital. "Can you spare me a piece of paper and a pen?"

The driver handed him one and he wrote down his address and the neighborhood he lived in and handed it to me.

"Why do I need this now? Aren't you going to be home when I get there?" I asked uncertainly.

"Ma. I told you I have things to do this afternoon and I don't want you standing on the street waiting for me. It will be fine." He said, rubbing my shoulder.

I stepped out of the cab and slung my purse around my shoulders and despite the hot day, I shivered. I watched the cab pull away and was struck with the terrible feeling that this would be the last time I ever saw my son.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I went into the hospital and asked the front desk where Carly Boscorelli's room was. No one knew. They checked the database three times before I said, "Try Carly Davis.".

Sure enough, she was registered under her maiden name and she was in the maternity ward on the fourth floor. I asked directions, thanked the nurse and proceeded toward the elevator. On my way, I passed the hospital gift shop and decided to go in and buy something for both Carly and the child. I found a beautiful cosmetic bag for Carly that was red satin with ruby colored stones sewed on to the side in the shape of a heart. And for Davis, I found a blue and white jumper set that came with booties and a sweet little hat. I put both in gift bags and went to the elevator.

As I was going up, I realized that I had forgot to call Bosco again. He'd think that I really wasn't coming home and that I was still angry over his not coming, instead of what I really was; miserable without him and very sorry that we had fought.

I found her room easily enough and stuck my head inside. "Hello? Carly, are you there?" I called as I entered.

She was sitting on her hospital bed with her back to me. Surprised to see her up and about, I walked in further. "Carly?"

She turned and smiled at me, but it was weak. "Faith...thanks for coming."

I threw down the bags and walked over and embraced her. "How are you feeling?" I asked, squeezing her unresponsive body close to me.

She sniffed the air, what seemed like trying to hold back tears and looked away for a second. "I'm okay, I guess."

"Are you sore?"

She nodded. I felt very uncomfortable and it was clear that so did she. She stood up and walked over to the window. "He's beautiful, you know. Looks just like me when I was born except that his skins lighter..." She murmured.

Awkwardly, I held out the two gift bags for her to open. She accepted them and opened them without excitement but smiled and thanked me anyway.

I sat down on the chair that was reserved for visitors and looked around the room. It was bare. No balloons welcoming the new life, no cards, no flowers. It was as if no one knew she had had the baby. I focused for the first time on what she was wearing; a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She looked like she had never given birth at all; her figure was as good as it had been before she became pregnant.

" When can I see him?" I asked excitedly. Now that I was here I could hardly wait to see little Davis.

"He's in the nursery. He's sleeping." She said sadly, looking out at the brilliant summer day.

"Carly? What's wrong, baby? You can tell me. I'm here. I know I'm not your momma but I've known you since the day that you were born...I want to help." I said as sincerely as I could.

She turned to me, tears glistening down her dark cheeks, wet and shiny. "I miss her so much, Faith. It's like I can't go on without her."

Tears sprung to my eyes, the pain of losing Sasha filling me once again. "I know, sweetie. I miss her too. Every day. She'd be proud of you for naming him Davis Monroe...it's a real tribute to her and to your dad." I said.

"Faith..you don't have to pretend that everything is okay. I know what I did and I deserve to be hated by you and the rest of your family—" she began, her head hung down in shame.

I jumped up from my seat and walked over to her and held her slender shoulders. "You listen to me— I don't want to hear that garbage from you...do you understand? What's done is done and I love you the same way I love Michael and Brett. There is no going back now. Davis is here and he's my grandson and I love him. No one hates you, Carly."

"I can't even look at him without seeing what I did" She admitted. She turned to me and looked back out the window. " I can't raise this child, Faith. I can't do it." She said softly, but firmly.

I started toward her but she raised her hand. "Carly...listen..."

"No. I've decided. I can't live with it. Brett can't live with it and Mike doesn't want to take any responsibility for it...I just can't do it!" She practically yelled at me.

"So that's it then? You're just gonna give away your baby?" I spoke bitterly, my anger at her starting to return. " You're just gonna throw him away? That's not right! It's not right!" I repeated, starting to shake.

"I'm not any good for him!" She cried out harshly, raising her hands in the air. "I'm not like you, Faith. I can't rise to any occasion and fix everything! I can't stick my head into everyone's problems and come up with the right solution_ every _time!"

Her anger had come about quickly, but I had the feeling that it had been brewing for a very long time.

This was news to me; I hadn't known that she thought of me this way. Obviously I had struck a very sensitive cord with her. One that was making her very angry, very quickly. And if she was angry, I was angrier. I would never give my children away!

"Carly...you have to be reasonable..."

"Oh do I?" She narrowed her grief stricken eyes hatefully at me and turned her face into a sneer. She had never done that to me in the entire twenty four years that I had known her. I was shocked. "I don't think that I do!"

"Carly.."

She stepped toward me and I stepped back, my eyes widening in shock at her anger.

"NO! This is MY life, do you get that? MY life! And don't think you can come here with your gift bags and your hugs and smiles and make it better! I don't want to be a mother and you can't make me...I'm not keeping him and that's final."

"Fine! Be a coward then! Give up your child...but I'll tell you now that you'll regret it until the day that you die, Carly! You will!" I yelled at her, my control gone, my heart torn apart.

"He'll be going to a home where he'll be loved." She bit back. " You can understand that. You've always been such a great mother, with your camping trips and your skating parties and having a husband who will cook and bake cookies for his kids...what kind of a home would that be for the baby? Having a step-father who hates his guts? Growing up in a house where he knows he's the bastard child that no one wanted? Tell me? Huh? Tell me how that would work?" She shrilled to me, her control, if she ever had any, all but gone.

"What are you talking about? Brett told me that he was leaving you!" I cried, frustrated and confused.

"Well— we worked out a deal. It's between us, Faith and it doesn't involve you."

I snorted. "Between you and he? That's a laugh. Neither of you know what you want. You don't know how to deal with real life. Ya just give up and toss out a beautiful baby so you can continue on with your life. Did he tell you to give him up?" I railed.

She didn't answer, just went over to a locker that contained her purse and her shoes and a change of clothes. She slipped her feet into her sneakers and then looked at her watch.

"Did he?" I pressed.

"We made a deal that was...that works for both of us. I love your son, no matter what you think."

All the pieces were starting to come together. He had bullied her into giving up the baby and that was unforgivable. I _knew _he had done it. He had told me that he hated that baby from the minute he was born and I knew that he had hated it well before that. She was giving up her own child for the love of a man who was completely unforgiving and unreasonable in his hatred of an innocent child.

"A deal? That's what you call it?" I sat back down in the rocker and started to cry. She stood there and watched me for a moment and then mumbled something about getting the baby for me and left the room.

I cried in that five minutes for all that should have been, for all that could have been, if only the two of them had been grown up enough to deal with the situation properly. I cried for Bosco, for me, for Mike, Brett and Carly. For Sasha and finally, for my newest grandchild, Davis. I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before she got back. I missed Bosco so much at that moment, I could hardly sit still.

I needed his arms around me, comforting me, telling me that everything would be okay, even though he knew it wouldn't. Together we could face anything. How foolish I had been to tell him that I might not come home. The truth was that I was only away from him for a day and I was a complete mess.

I heard the door open and Carly came in holding a very small bundle in a blue blanket. She held him close to her and I could see the regret in her eyes, even if she wouldn't admit it. She brought him to me and I eagerly took him.

I pealed the blanket back and gazed into the face of one of the most beautiful infants I'd ever seen. He had a small shock of black curly hair and bright blue eyes. He was dazzling, even much more so than any other of my children. A tear escaped my eye as I knew that I would never get to see this little boy after today. After a few hours.

Carly sat down on her bed and watched me. I put Davis over my shoulder and cuddled him close to me. I rubbed his back and hummed him a lullaby.

A nurse came in to check on Carly and Davis. She smiled warmly at me and introduced herself as 'Judy'.

She was maybe in her mid twenties or early thirties with long chestnut brown hair and shapely almond colored eyes. I thought she was very pretty.

"You're Faith? The Faith that Carly has been tellin' us about?"

I nodded. "Faith Boscorelli. Nice to meet you." I wondered what kind of things Carly had said. Probably not good things, I thought.

"So, you're going to—" She started.

"Uh...yes...Judy, can you check my temperature? I feel kind of hot." Carly interrupted quickly.

I turned my attention back to Davis and brought him down into my lap so I could study him more. He opened his blue eyes and stared blankly at me. I knew he couldn't really see me, but I liked looking at his beautiful eyes anyway. I took his tiny hand into mine and counted all of his fingers. They were perfect.

"Would you like to feed him?" Judy asked, leaning over and smiling at Davis. She had finished taking Carly's temperature and was holding warm formula.

I looked at Carly. "Don't you want to do it, Carly?"

She shook her head and looked away toward the window again. Disgusted, I nodded at Judy and took the warm bottle from her hand and gently placed it in the baby's mouth.

"He better get used to the bottle now." Judy said under her breath and gave me a look of mild disappointment.

I gave her a knowing glance and went back to feeding. "That's it, sweetie...good boy." I cooed.

After Judy left I attempted small talk with Carly again, only to be left with one word answers and looks of hostility mixed with sadness. I could see that this was tearing her apart.

"Carly..you don't have to do this. You can keep him. He's so precious."

"I know."

"Don't you want to hold him?"

"No."

"Why are you doing this?"

"He needs a mother."

"He _has _a mother. It's you..._remember?" _

"He needs a mother like...you."

"I give up." I sighed as I burped Davis on my shoulder.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost six-thirty. I didn't realize that I had been in the room so long and I was starting to get hungry. We had sat in silence for almost two hours.

Davis was asleep on my lap, his little thumb stuck into his mouth. He slurped away gently, just as his uncle and father had done when they were a few hours old. I was getting too attached, even in this short of time.

I stood up and started to take Davis over to Carly but she shook her head. "I can't...it's too hard...I can't." She said, and looked out the window again.

What was so important at that damn window, I didn't know, but it was starting to irritate the hell out of me.

"Carly, when is the people who are adopting him going to be here?"

"Soon."

"Who are they?" I inquired.

"Nice people." Was her only answer.

"Look, I have to get some supper. What do you want me to do with him?"

"Take him to the nursery. They'll take care of him."

I started out of the room when she called my name.

"Faith?"

I turned around to look at her. She was crying.

"For what it's worth...thanks."

"For what?"

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "For everything."

I left the room and took Davis to the nursery and headed down to the cafeteria. I stopped to call Bosco from a payphone but there was no answer. I ordered some french fries and a hamburger but only ate half of it. My stomach was in knots and all I wanted to do was cry.

I tried Bosco from the same payphone again before I headed back upstairs. This time I got the machine, which hadn't come on the first time. I left a message.

"Bos? It's me...look...I'm really sorry...about—well, everything. Carly had the baby. It's a boy. His name is Davis Monroe Boscorelli...and he's the cutest little guy you ever did see...there's lots to tell you. I wish you were here. I love you and Ill call you when I get back to Brett's."

I made my way back up to the nursery and the nurses were gathered around Davis's cubicle looking at him. One was holding a clean jumper and the other was cutting his hospital bracelet off. I felt a fledge of panic...for that meant that the adoptive parents were here to claim my beautiful grandson.

Judy saw me and gave me a beaming smile. "It's so good of you to do this...to be here and all...I think you're very brave."

"Uh..thanks?" I said, not understanding. I stood beside the basinet and looked down.

"I mean...to do what you're doing for your son and daughter-in-law...it's just great." She continued, oblivious to the confused look on my face.

"I'm only doing what any grandmother or mother would do." I said uncomfortably. Did all of the nurses here know everything that had happened? Apparently so.

"I have the forms for you to fill out before you go, Mrs. Boscorelli." another nurse said, handing me a stack of forms to sign. "He sure is a beautiful boy." She added.

I took them, not understanding what she meant. "Oh, in case he gets sick or something? So that you know the family background for the adoptive parents?"

The nurses looked from one to the other, expressions of confusion written across _their _faces. They must have thought that I was stupid, completely senile or maybe mentally ill, from the looks they gave me.

"Can't Carly fill these out? She is his mother."

"Carly? What do you mean?" Asked a nurse named Phillys.

"Why wouldn't she? I'm his grandmother..shouldn't his mother be doing this?"

"Why, Mrs. Boscorelli...she's gone." Judy said, the smile wilting from her face.

"Gone? Like to the bathroom?" I asked, fear lacing my heart.

Phyllis looked at Judy, who in turn, looked at the other nurses. "Nooooo...as in she left. Just after you did."

"You mean the adoptive parents are here?" I asked, looking around for some sign of the couple. I didn't see anyone other than the staff. "Are they in another room or something?"

"Mrs. Boscorelli...what did Carly tell you about the people who were taking the baby?" Judy asked slowly, as if she knew something that I didn't. "Maybe you should come into the supervisor's office for a minute." She added, giving the other nurses a knowing look.

"Okayyyyy..." I said, getting irritated by the confusion and the questions and the fact that everyone seemed to know exactly what was going on, while I, the dense one, groped around in the dark.

She took me to the office which was nothing more than a glorified broom closet with a small desk with a computer on it. There were two plastic chairs. She sat down and I sat opposite her. I clasped my hands together, terribly anxious as to what she was going to say.

"Mrs. Boscorelli, what did your daughter-in-law tell you about the baby and the fact that she was giving him up?"

"Nothing. My son called me yesterday and asked me to come to Boston to sit with Carly because she had three days left until her due date and then told me that the baby had been born after I arrived. He lied to me and felt that it was the only way to get me here. Anyway, he dropped me off this afternoon to visit with the baby and Carly told me she was giving him up. That's all I know."

Judy leaned forward and gazed at me sympathetically. "How many kids do you have?"

How out of context was that? I wasn't here to answer stupid questions like that!

"Three–why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Grandchildren, other than Davis?" She continued, ignoring my question.

"One..a girl...her name is Little Faith...WHY?" I shrilled, losing control. I started to cry despite my efforts not to. This day had been too full of anxiety and I couldn't cope.

"Mrs. Boscorelli—"

"Oh, just call me Faith..and get on with it..._what_ are you trying to tell me?" I snapped.

"Carly checked out about five minutes after you did. She's gone. She's not coming back."

Gone? Not coming back? Not waiting to see the adoptive parents? Didn't say good bye to her baby?

"What? Gone? She didn't even wait to meet the adoptive parents? How could she do that?" I yelled, my palms face up. I looked at Judy helplessly.

She took a deep breath and furrowed her eyebrows together. She seemed to get more upset by seeing _me_ upset.

"Mrs...Faith." She stopped and then started again. "Carly told us who the adoptive parents were going to be...she knows them very well, as a matter of fact."

"She does? Who are they? WHERE are they?"

Judy sighed and reached out and took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Hon...can't you guess?"

"GUESS? WHY would I want to GUESS at something this important, JUDY?" I spit through clenched teeth.

"Because she told us that you and your husband would be taking the child and raising him yourself."


	24. Welcome Home

As I sat on the plane that would take me home to my husband and family, I watched the face of my second grandchild sleeping contentedly on the seat beside me, his little thumb stuck in his mouth. He was dressed in the outfit I had bought him and was snugly ensconced in his new safety seat that, luckily, Judy went out and got for him on her break.

All of the nurses at the hospital had been dumbfounded and then angry when they realized that Carly had ditched her new-born son and hadn't so much as asked Bosco or I if we would be able to look after him. I chewed on my bottom lip as I replayed the last two days events in my mind, trying to fathom the enormity of what had happened. How could Carly do such a thing?

It was during that plane ride that I realized the depth of what Brett and Carly had done. They had to have planned this for a very long time. They had the papers ready for me to sign; they had bought their tickets in advance; had cleaned out most of their apartment and left only the furniture and nicknacks.

They had traded in one life for another; the life of her son for a life with each other.

When I had returned to the apartment with Davis I had found a letter propped up on the table with my and Bosco's name on it. As I read and reread the words, I found a kind of anger boiling up in me that threatened to consume all of my days and nights. My son and daughter-in-law had left their child, abandoned him for selfishness and the promise of a life together. I knew in my heart that they would never be happy. She would resent him for making her give up her son; he would never forgive her infidelity of being with his brother. It didn't matter which way they turned; someone would always be hurt.

I leaned back and rested my head on the seat as I pondered about my present situation. Would I be able to raise this little boy until he became a man? I was in my fifties, which meant that I would be in my late seventies before he even finished high school. How would Bosco react to having me come home with a new baby for him to be a father to? My stomach was tied in knots as I thought about the fact that I hadn't even called him to let him know about the 'new' addition to our family. Could we keep this baby or should I have considered letting a young family who had no children take him?

As if he read my thoughts, Davis began to stir, his little fist came out from under the blue blanket and he opened his mouth and let out a small cry of protest. He opened his eyes and looked at me for a second before closing them again and wiggling around a bit. His tiny brown face puckered up into a grimace before he let me know that he was hungry again.

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, little one." I cooed softly, as I unbuckled him from his seat and took him out and held him close to me. He was so tiny, in his six pounds, that he felt like a feather in my hand. His diapers were the size of a small baggie and looked ludicrous on his small bum and legs. I opened the new diaper bag that the hospital nurses had given me as a parting gift, and got out a small bottle. A plump stewardess with long red hair and a ton of makeup saw me and came over and offered to heat it up. I gladly gave it to her and set about stroking Davis's back and his head to try and comfort him until his dinner came.

"How old is he? " She asked when she returned. She leaned over and stroked a red nailed finger over his head and smiled at me.

"He is three days old." I said proudly, surprising myself at how happy I sounded.

"He's a sweetie. What's his name?"

"Davis." I answered, as I put the bottle in his mouth. He took it immediately and began to drink.

"Nice name. You look great for just having a baby."

I laughed. "Me? Oh, no. He's my grandson. But thanks for the compliment."

"Grandson? Well, I've got five of my own. Love each and every one of them. They sure are a lot more fun than raising your own." She said with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. "Any time, hon. Well, I better get back to it." She said and walked to tend to another passenger.

The plane landed at LaGuardia uneventfully, which was the way I liked it. I wasn't a huge fan of flying and I worried about dying every single time I stepped foot on a plane. I got Davis secured in his seat, placed a small receiving blanket over the top and proceeded down the isle with the other passengers.

We took a cab home, the long drive making me more nervous with each passing mile. I watched the scenery pass by, wondering how my life had turned out to be so crazy. The truth was that I didn't know if I could handle raising another baby. What if Bosco didn't want to do it? Would he be angry at me for bringing Davis home with me?

He'd just have to get over it, I decided, as I watched Davis sleeping peacefully beside me in the back seat. I brushed my hand over his cheek and felt my love for him growing rapidly. Poor little boy, who was left at that hospital by the woman who was supposed to protect him from all harm; left like a piece of baggage; left but not forgotten, I was sure. Carly would regret her actions for the rest of her life.

By the time the cab pulled into our driveway, I knew it didn't matter. Davis Boscorelli was home. Where he belonged. With his family. I felt the butterflies well up inside my stomach as I saw our Mustang in the drive. Knowing it would only be a few seconds before I had to explain myself, I felt almost dizzy with the thought of facing my husband with this new baby.

I should have called him again to let him know.

I should have given him time to adjust.

I paid the driver and walked up the front walk with Davis in one hand and my bag in the other.

Welcome home, I thought to myself.

Welcome home.


	25. Don't Press the Panic Button

**Don't Press the Panic Button**

I walked up the flagstone walk and set Davis down before going up the steps and peering inside. The front door was open wide and the screen door was locked. Bosco was always such a stickler for locking doors. I remembered him saying that his father used to come in their back door when Rose left it unlocked. I knew exactly what had happened on those occasions and always did my best to lock the doors. Those wounds were far behind my husband but the scars still remained.

I could hear the radio playing from the livingroom. He was listening to 'Blue Rodeo's' newest hit. I didn't hear him singing along, so I figured maybe he was in the bathroom and this would be as good a time as any to make my entrance with the baby.

I pulled my keys out from my purse and gently slid the right one into the lock. Damn, it was a hot afternoon, with the humidity well past one hundred. The blue sky above had puffs of white clouds floating lazily along, with no will other than to move towards the abyss, the end of the world. For clouds had no care other than to relish the land with its wet rain and to give way to our imaginations, the things children would dream about while lying on their backs, looking up at the sky, imagining. It was a perfect day to lay back and dream of yesterday and of the days to come.

When I had the door unlocked and had Davis securely in my arms, I went inside and felt the cold breeze of the air conditioning hit me as if I had jumped into a swimming pool on a sweltering hot day. I felt relief standing there, the cool air biting my arms, my legs and neck. I started to calm down a little as the rest of my body started to relax. I set the baby down and peeled the thin cotton blanket down from his face to check and make sure he was still breathing. He was. His dark face so sweet and content, I couldn't resist bending down and kissing his smooth cheek and running my palm over his black curls.

I straitened up when I heard the toilet flushing in the small bathroom down the hall. Quickly, I picked up the baby seat and set Davis inside the small parlor room, which at one time was the livingroom when Rose ran the house, and brushed my long hair back out of my eyes, before entering the hall again. I prayed that the baby would stay asleep long enough for me to explain the situation.

I walked over to the side table and set my keys in the little dish. I looked around and realized that this was the place that I wanted Davis to grow up, the same place his grandfather and father had. It was within these walls that Bosco and Mikey grew into men and in those rooms, we had sat together as a family, the five of us. In this house we had laughed and cried together; had good times and bad; watched movies and played checkers and monopoly. In this house we had created love.

The water stopped running and the bathroom door swung open. Bosco stepped out, wiping his freshly washed hands on his jeans. He was wearing a red polo t-shirt and the tight blue jeans I had picked up for him at a flea market and his Nike sneakers. I could smell the sweetness of his cologne and I literally ached to have him hold me in his arms. He looked up, startled at my sudden appearance. My eyes welled up with shiny tears upon seeing him and his, at seeing me.

"Hi." He said softly, stuffing his dry hands into his front pockets, shoulders slumping slightly. He went to step forward to embrace me, but must have remembered that he was still mad at me, and reluctantly stood back, rocking himself back and forth on the balls of his feet. He looked down, not meeting my gaze.

"Hi." I said and quickly looked down, my blond hair falling across my eyes.

Neither one of us was good at saying sorry. In our own way we more than made up for it, but there were times that someone needed to break the tension, the silence and confess what was on their minds.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, his eyes pleading and sorry.

"No, baby. It isn't." I said, looking up from the floor for fear that I would cry before I told him what was waiting for him in the other room. A new son. A new life.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"Are Brett and Carly okay?"

"No."

"Did something happen to the baby?" He asked, his face full of concern and worry, not the anger that I thought I would see.

"Are you still mad at me? Cause if you are, I don't think I can take it– not after the last two days I've had." I blurted out, hoping terribly that he'd just make up with me.

Despite my firm resolve not to cry until I had it all out, just seeing him so hurt and lost looking drove me over the edge and I felt a tear slip down my face. Immediately he was striding over to me and grabbed me in a huge hug. I felt my arms go around his waist and held on for all I was worth. He rubbed my back and kissed my hair.

"Damn Faith, I"m _so_ sorry for the things I said. I was upset. It was uncalled for and mean." He blurted. "Please forgive me." He murmured into my hair. "I was goin out of my mind missin you".

"It's okay. I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry that you were hurt." I wailed, the tears choking me as I clung to him. "It was the longest two days of my life."

We stood there for about five minutes just holding each other tight. If there was ever a time I needed to feel him, it was now. For what I was about to tell him was going to rock his world and I didn't know how he was going to react. I did know, however, that he didn't no view people who abandoned their children in a good way. He was abandoned by his birth father and then by his father Anthony and still bore the scars to prove it.

Finally, I stopped crying and tipped my head back and looked into his eyes. He wrinkled his brow and bit down on his lower lip as we gazed at each other.

"What happened, Faith?"

"I have a lot to tell you, Bosco. But I need...I need for you to listen, really listen to me cause it's gonna be hard for you to hear."

A muscle along his jaw line twitched as he tightened up and backed away from me, preparing for what ever bad news I had to tell him about. It seemed that the entire last year was filled with 'sit down', or 'I have to tell you something', or 'Don't say anything until I've finished, but...". Would there ever be a time that we didn't live under this cloud?

"Okay. First, did you get my message about the baby?"

He nodded. "Davis Monroe Boscorelli. That's kind of big name for him to learn how to spell."

"Yes. It is. Well...I think that we should go into the kitchen for a few minutes and talk where we can sit down." I suggested, grabbing for his arm and starting to pull him along.

"Faith..why can't we talk here?" He asked, and stopped walking. I tried to pull him but he wouldn't budge.

"I want to sit down. I"m tired."

"I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell me what happened _now_. Not in the kitchen." He said, pointing at the floor with his index finger. "Tell me here. _Right_ here. You do this to me _every_ time."

I let out an exasperated sigh and gave him a pleading look. "Please...just come to the kitchen where I can sit down and get a cup of tea. Bos, I'm tired. Please."

Reluctantly, he agreed and followed me into the kitchen. I sat down at the large table and put my head into my hands. He looked at me over his shoulder as he filled the kettle with water.

"Herbal or lemon?"

"Lemon, please."

When the tea was ready he filled two steaming mugs and set them down on the table, then went to get some honey and milk out of the fridge. He got two spoons out of the drawer and sat down.

"So, can you tell me now?" He asked as he squeezed some honey onto his spoon.

Instead of answering I dug into the pocket of my sweater and pulled out the envelope that contained the letter that Brett had written to us and handed it to him.

"What's this?"

"Just read it." I answered. I poured a generous amount of honey into my mug and added a little milk before stirring it around. I took a big sip and relished the taste on my tongue.

He quickly unfolded the medium sized piece of stationary with Harvard University written across the top in burgundy writing and began to read. His mouth fell open as he read in silence.

"_Dear mom and dad,_" It began. "_This is the hardest letter that I have ever had to write. Please understand that we never meant to hurt you or anyone else, but there just wasn't any other way. In my heart I will never be able to deal with this baby, knowing that it wasn't mine, but Mike's. I hated it from the moment I found out that Carly had betrayed me. I made my plans to leave for Japan to teach English. Carly didn't want to live without me and we came to the conclusion that if she gave this baby up for adoption that we could begin again. To start over." _

Bosco looked up at me, horror written clearly across his features. "Is he serious?" He whispered, shaking his head.

I nodded, feeling the tears start to fall again. I felt so bad for him, reading about what his selfish son and daughter-in-law had done. He continued to read, the farther down the page he got, the tears started to come to his eyes. One escaped and zig-zagged down his cheek.

"_Together, without this baby to encumber us, we are going to live in Japan. We have decided that it is too painful for either of us to return any time soon, so we are going to stay here until we feel that we are both able to face the rest of you. Carly has written Ty and let him know the situation. Maybe someday you will be able to forgive us for being so impulsive and selfish, but again, there was no other way. There is no forgiveness in my heart for the man I used to call my brother. He is dead to me now. May God bless you both for what you are doing. Love, your son, Brett_."

Finally, he set the paper down on the table and shook his head slowly. " So...they're not coming back. Ever? I don't understand...I don't understand how they could do this–" He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "When did this happen?"

I reached over and put my hand over his and squeezed it gently. "Yesterday. I went to the hospital to see Carly and while I was down in the cafeteria she got her stuff and she left. I came back and she was gone."

He reached up with his free hand and ran it through his hair, confused; angry. "How? She just left the baby? Just walked out the door?" He asked incredulously.

"That she did. But you have to understand that Brett made her do it. He bullied her into giving this child up. She told me that they had an agreement and that it was none of our business, but that everything was going to be fine."

He narrowed his eyes until they became slits. "Fine? I'd _hardly_ call this situation fine. What the hell were they thinking?"

"They weren't thinking. Brett tricked me into coming to Boston. Davis was already born when I got there. He was already two days old. They planed for me to come out there so I could take the baby home with me. They had to have been planning this for a really long time. Neither of them wanted this baby. Mike didn't want to take responsibility either. None of them would make good parents for him. We both know it."

'What does he look like? Did you take any pictures?"

"No. I didn't—"

"You didn't? Now I'll never get to see him! How could you _not_ take a picture?" He practically shouted in my ear.

I leaned in closer to him, wanting to gather him into my arms and hold him forever. "Babe..there's more to this story."

"More? How can there be more?" He scoffed sarcastically, shoving his chair back and standing up. He began to pace around the kitchen. Back and forth from the fridge to the sink. The sink to the island and so forth. He jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Bosco...I.." I began.

"Who took him?" He asked suddenly, stopping in his tracks and facing me. "I mean, who are they? Did you get to see them? Do they seem like they're alright?"

Before I could answer, he started pacing again and mumbling questions to himself more than to me.

"Dammit Faith, we don't know what kind of people have our grandson! They could be crazy! Lunatics, for all we know!" He said, his voice becoming louder with each passing second. He was thinking about a million things a minute, not giving himself time to be rational.

"Bosco...please."

He whirled around, again, facing me. "They could be in some kind of cult or something...did anyone check into their backgrounds? Maybe they have a criminal record." He babbled, reaching down and squeezing my shoulder, his fingers biting into my flesh.

I stood up and pulled his arm off of me and grabbed his shoulders. "Bosco! Enough. I have something to show you. Can you sit down a minute?"

"What? Can I sit down?" He asked as if I were crazy. "Sit down _now_? After you tell me that Brett and his wife have jumped the country and gave up their kid to some crazy family who could be using it for who knows what—"

I couldn't let another minute pass and listen to any more of his agony. It was time to introduce him to his grandson.

"Just sit down. It will all make sense in a minute. Don't press the panic button just yet." I demanded and pivoted and walked down the hall.

I bent down and unbuckled Davis from his seat and carefully lifted him into my arms. He squirmed a bit but didn't wake up. I walked back toward the kitchen. I could hear my husband still ranting and raving to himself.

"Dammit, how the hell could they do something so _stupid_—". And a few strings of curse words after.

I rounded the corner and came into the kitchen again. Bosco was back to me, staring out the window into the back yard.

"Bos?" I said softly.

He turned around to face me. His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide as saucers. "What–how–what?" He sputtered.

"They left him for us." I said softly, kissing the top of his head.

"What? Us?" He said, not understanding.

"Come see him. Sit down. You can hold him." I said, motioning for him to take a seat.

He came closer and sat down on the nearest chair, dumbfounded. "What do you mean?" He asked again, as I handed the sleeping bundle to him. He cradled him gently in his arms and bent down to kiss his tiny face. He looked in astonishment at the child that our son and Carly Davis had made so carelessly and abandoned.

I sat down next to him and ran my finger tips over his dark curly hair. "They want us to take him."

"Us? How could they think that we could raise another kid?"

"You don't think we could?" I asked softly.

He breathed in deeply before looking up at me. "I dunno...I dunno what ta say...I'm shocked here. They left him, Faith. They left this tiny little boy at the hospital. I still can't believe it."

"I know. I can't either. But you understand why I had to take him, don't you? I couldn't leave him there when his own mother didn't want him. He's still our grandson, Bosco." I asked almost desperately.

He leaned over slowly and kissed me on the lips. Once, twice, three times and then pulled back and looked at me with such tenderness I thought I would cry again. "I understand. I don't know what we're gonna do, Faith. But I understand. He's family and that's all that matters."

And so, we sat in our kitchen that hot summer day, wondering about our children and how they could make such huge mistakes, and how they could ever be so callous and uncaring. We cried together and comforted one another until our little boy opened his eyes to look at his grandfather for the first time.

One thing was for sure; No matter what happened in the future and no matter how many more mistakes our children were bound to make, not to mention the ones we'd make ourselves, we would always have each other to love and lean on.

And that was enough.

TBC


	26. Decisions

**Decisions: What do we do now?**

Decision; was there ever a more scary word? Was there ever a word that could top that final moment when you have to decide about something so monumental that it scares the life out of you?

We were stuck between a rock and a hard place; We had to decide realistically if we were up to the task of raising another child when we were fast approaching senior citizen status. I mean, how were we supposed to raise a child when we were finally free? Finally able to come and go as we pleased and not have to worry about babysitters and burping and diaper duty. I knew it was selfish, but I wasn't sure if we were up to it.

On the other hand, how could we, in good conscience, give away a child born of our flesh? A child whose own mother had tossed him away? Would he grow up wondering why he was given away? Would he always bare the scar that comes from knowing that no one wanted him? How, could I, could _we_, do that to our son's son? The real question was this: Could we live with ourselves if we _did_? Could we live with ourselves if we _didn't_?

In the end, there really wasn't any decision at all. By the end of the first evening with him, both Bosco and I were head over heels in love with this tiny little boy whose face reminded us so much of Ty Davis Sr., and whose bright blue eyes were so much a reflection of my own and those of my children. We fed and burped our little one, gave him a bath in tepid water from the kitchen sink and dressed him in a new pair of pajamas that Bosco had gone out and got for him.

My heart soared as I watched my husband rocking Davis in our livingroom, his arms wrapped protectively around him, holding him close to his heart, the same way he had done with all of our other children, stopping every so often to lean down and kiss his tender cheek or his curly hair. It was about nine o'clock and I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. The past few days had been exhausting both mentally and physically. All I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep for a week. I walked into the livingroom dressed in my white cotton nightie that barely reached my knees and sat down on the sectional sofa opposite Bosco.

"He's beautiful isn't he?" I said, as I curled my legs underneath me and got comfortable.

"Yah. He's so small, I feel like he's gonna break in my arms or somethin." Bosco commented, looking up at me and giving me a half smile. Despite his delight over his new grandson, I knew his heart was breaking over the situation, just as mine was.

"Didja ever see us bein grandparents, Faith? I mean, I never thought about what it would be like. Never thought that I'd even live to be a grandfather."

"I know. It's funny how life works out. One day your partners at the Police Academy and the next, your married and thirty years have passed."

"He looks so much like Ty, doesn't he?" He asked, with genuine pride in his voice. After all, Ty was his best friend.

"He does." I agreed. A thought occurred to me. "Bos? When are we going to talk to Ty about all of this?"

"I dunno. The letter said that he'd be findin out soon, but I think we should call him tonight or early tomorrow mornin. I don't want to keep this from him."

It took me a few moments to gather up the courage to ask him what our next move should be, but I shouldn't have bothered. Before I could even open my mouth, he had anticipated my question.

"I don't know."

"What?" I asked.

He looked pointedly at me and sighed. "I dunno what we should do–with him, I mean." He nodded his head at the sleeping bundle in his arms. "I mean, can you picture us startin over now? We're kind of over the whole midnight feedins and all that."

Surprised, I opened my mouth again and then shut it, knowing that he knew me much better than I knew myself. After a few seconds, I spoke. "What do you _want_ to do?"

He began to rock back and forth slowly, setting a lazy pace and shook his head ruefully. "What do I want to do?" He laughed sarcastically. " I want to turn back the clock to when we knew our kids— to when we had some control over the things they did—but most of all–" He looked down at Davis. "most of all, I want this little boy to grow up in good home with two parents. I don't want him goin through the crap that Mikey and I had to live with."

I sat forward and bit down on my lower lip, wanting to hear him say that we would raise him ourselves and to hell with what anyone else thought. To hell with Brett and Carly, too. To hell with it all; we'd be his parents and he'd never want for anything.

"What are you saying?"

He eased himself out of the chair and brought the baby over to me and passed him over gently. I leaned back on the couch and cuddled my little bundle, loving the feel of him in my arms. Bosco walked over to the fireplace and ran his finger tips over the pictures that sat on the mantle.

"I'm saying that no matter what, he's family. He's our responsibility now. But I have to tell you that I don't think we're doing any favors to Brett or to Carly by doin it. It's like they can make this big mess and just expect us to clean it up for them. It's not right."

"What other choice to we have? Find someone to adopt him? Just let him go? Because I don't know if I can do that— " I warned.

He turned back to me, anger and hurt flashing across his face again. "Don't you think I know that? Do you honestly think that I want to let him go either?" He asked, his arm extended to me. "I love this kid already."

"No–"

"Do you know what this is gonna do to our family? _Do you_?" He asked again.

"Yes...it's gonna be hard, of course—"

He widened his eyes and shook his head. "_Hard? _I'd say it's gonna be hard! Do you really think that Brett is gonna step foot in this house again, knowing that Davis is here with us? Do you think that Carly will be able to see the son she left behind? Do you think that Mike will want to come here, knowing what we're doing? Knowing that we are picking up the pieces of the horrible mess he's made? I would say that_ hard _is the _understatement_ of the century!" He widened his arms and turned in a slow circle around the room.

"Bosco, are you done?" I asked as calmly as I could. I knew that he wasn't angry at me. He was hurt and he was trying to deal with it the best way he could, however, it was a long cry from being an easy task to calm him down when he got this way. He could go from calm to angry in a breath; from angry to sad in a second. He was like a chameleon, changing so fast, it was hard to keep up at times.

He stopped and looked at me. "Done? I'd say neither of us is gonna be done for a long time. This is only the beginning." He said prophetically.

I nodded my head slowly. "Yes..you're right. This won't ever be over. It doesn't matter what happens next because nothing will ever be the same between us or our sons again. The question I'm asking you is what you want to do with him? We need to be together on this, Bos, or it won't work. We need to be united because if we aren't then terrible things will happen."

He considered for a moment, wiping his hand over his forehead and rubbing back and forth. He plucked his charm out from under his shirt and began to twirl it over and over again, betraying him, betraying his inner feelings.

"Terrible things have _already_ happened." He said in all seriousness and then took a deep breath and swung his eyes my way. They were eyes filled with unshed tears, for refused to let even one more drop. I could see the disappointment and the bitterness from the situation. "But I won't turn my back on my own flesh and blood."

I felt my heart flutter in anticipation.

" We'll raise him as our own." Were his final words on the subject.

And so it was decided. Davis Monroe Boscorelli was officially home.


	27. Old and New

The very next day Bosco and I were up at the crack of dawn with our new baby, who had, miraculously, slept through most of the night, only getting up once to be fed and changed.

We decided that we would call Ty first thing and let him know what was happening. If he hadn't started drinking yet, which was how he started most of his days now, we wanted to ask him to come over and see the baby. He was, after all, Ty's grandson too.

I was grateful for the time alone with Bosco, considering that as soon as Emma found out what was happening that she would be here as fast as she could. I felt bad, though, because we had excluded her from a lot of things in the past few weeks and it showed. She had been calling less frequently and was not as talkative as she usually was. I made up my mind to call her as soon as we were finished with Ty. We also wanted to call Mikey and ask him to come over so we could let him know the decision we had come to, and also, to offer him a chance to spend some time with his son, if he wanted to. Both Bosco and myself were betting that he wasn't going to step up to his responsibility.

We were in the kitchen having breakfast, me a poached egg with whole wheat toast and Bosco, a glass of orange juice with a bowl of Special K cereal. Davis was in his seat on top of the table. Every once in a while Bosco would reach up and coo at him and alternately, I would do the same. We would glance over at each other and give a knowing look that this was going to be far from easy, but that we would make it through because we had each other. We always did.

"Have you heard from Arthur?" I asked in between bites of my toast.

"Ya. He called me the night you left and asked me how things were." He answered lightly.

"What did you say?" I asked, genuinely interested in knowing how things were going between them.

He shrugged. "I told him that we were doing fine. He doesn't need to know all of our problems. It's not like we really know him or anything."

"Are you going to see him again? Maybe we could bring Davis over to see him." I suggested.

He looked away for a second and then looked back at me. "Don't you think that we should figure out this mess before we go and get into another one? We still need to talk to Ty and to Michael. It's too much pressure right now."

"Maybe you're right." I said, reaching over and giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "I just thought that you might like to see him again."

"Some day. I'll call him soon." He answered non-commitally.. Obviously he wasn't ready to do any more bonding with his birth father quite yet.

We decided to call Ty in the morning and ask him to come over for a light lunch, that way we could call Mikey and ask him to come over for supper. Bosco made the call and told him that we had the baby with us and that we would love for him to come over and meet him. As I anticipated, Ty asked Bosco if he could come and pick him up. It was only nine in the morning and he'd already had something to drink. Bosco agreed and confirmed that he would be by around eleven thirty.

I busied myself by making a plate of egg salad sandwiches and a vegetable tray consisting of fresh mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes, celery, and carrot sticks. I made my own spinach dip to go with it. Bosco contented himself by feeding and changing the baby. He also began to plan the nursery for Davis in Mikey's old room, which was beside ours.

"What do you think we should do to the room, Faith?" He asked me as I put the finishing touches on the table setting.

I glanced up at him as I placed napkins in their designated holders next to the plates. He looked so handsome today, I thought, as I watched him holding Davis in the crook of his arm. Bosco had on a pair of blue jeans with a tight black t-shirt that accentuated the still-hard muscles of his chest.

"Do? I don't know." I said blankly. "Just do what you think should be done. You're the one with the decorating talent around here."

He glanced down at the sleeping infant and traced a finger tip across his head before looking back up at me. " You don't seem to be too into the idea."

I sighed. It wasn't that I wasn't into it. I was preoccupied by the fact that Ty was coming over. These past few months hadn't exactly been the easiest when it came to dealing with Ty. He had a severe drinking problem now and was liable to say exactly what came to his mind, whether or not it was tactful or hurtful or even honest. I knew he blamed Mikey for the entire mess, and although he was very angry with Carly for what had happened, I knew he still put the mark on my second son.

Could I really blame him for thinking that way? Mikey had grown into a man that I couldn't even respect. As of late, he had told his father that he and Carmelle were still seeing each other and that it was serious. He mentioned that he was thinking about asking her to marry him—marry him? The whole idea seemed ridiculous to me. I mean, what was he thinking? He had proven to both his father and I that he had no idea how to treat a lady with respect. He had no conscience when it came to hurting any of his girlfriends. Who was I more disappointed with? Him or myself?

"It's not that. Really." I asserted, trying to get the point across. The last thing I needed was him thinking something that wasn't true. " I was just thinking about how hard this is going to be on everyone...especially Ty. He blames Mikey, you know that, don't you?"

"I know."

I sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and leaned back, trying to relax the tenseness that had settled into my neck and shoulders. For the past few days I had come from one world to another. I had surprises at every turn, heartache, followed by intense happiness, mainly when I looked at my new baby. But, the emotional side of it was really beginning to wear me down. My husband had been right when he told me how hard it was going to be. I hadn't considered what would happen far into the future. All I knew was that I wasn't going to abandon that little boy. But with all things, there were consequences to that line of action. Having him would ensure that our family unit would never again function the way it once had. Two brothers, once loving, were now enemies. Each so far apart that I feared that gap would never close over. Having Davis would ensure that that wound would never heal.

The truth was that I was nervous about Ty coming over. I was even more nervous about having Mikey see Davis for the first time. It seemed that I was having a hurricane of emotions, riding an emotional roller coaster. One second I was happy. The next, I was worried and pensive about my abilities and my limitations. I couldn't win. For all I knew, Mikey could have been there for the birth and never told us. He could have even visited his son, considering that he had been in Boston and there was no way to find out exactly where he was or wasn't.

I bit down on my lower lip and thought for a second. I tilted my head back and looked at the ceiling, wishing the answers to all of my questions were some how written across the eggshell paint. I sighed again. "Do you think we can do this?"

He narrowed his gaze at me and then shook his head sympathetically. He brought Davis over to his seat which was still on the table and set him in it and then squatted down in front of my chair and took both of my hands into his. He gazed up at me, his whole face tense with emotion.

"Oh babe, I'm sorry that this is so hard on you. I know you're stressed and believe me, I understand. But you're the one who made me realize that we need to do this." He nodded up toward the table. "For him. For our grandson. I'm gonna be here every step of the way and I'm gonna help you in any way I can. If we stick together then it will work out."

"I know we need to do it, but you're right, Bos. This is just the beginning for us– for him. He won't be accepted by his father or his mother. He won't be loved by them the way he should. Ty probably won't feel the same way as he would have if he had been Brett's son. I just don't know—" I blinked back the beginning of tears.

He stood up and pulled me up along with him and looked deep into my eyes. "No one knows, Faith. No one knows what's gonna happen. But what we do know is that he _will _be loved. We are gonna love him. Emma will love him and Little Faith will have a cousin to play with. He'll be accepted and we'll make a life for him no matter what."

He hugged me close to him, holding as tightly as he could. I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart through his t-shirt. I closed my eyes and told myself that everything would be okay.

Bosco left to go and get Ty and I spent the last few minutes freshening up in the bathroom. The day was hot but not too hot and the sky was a bright delicious blue color with small puffy clouds that looked like whipped cotton candy. I chose a light pink skirt and a white t-shirt and put my hair up in a bun. I put on my white Keds and wore a matching pair of pink socks. Satisfied with my appearance, I picked up Davis who was lying on my bed and held him close to me.

"Time to meet your other grandpa, my sweet-heart." I cooed, leaning down and kissing his cheek. He didn't even stir. It had been so long since I had a new born in the house, I had forgotten just how much they sleep. He smelled like shampoo and baby powder. I'd always loved that smell and when Bosco and I had bathed him it felt like old times when we were young and had a house full of kids. I had forgotten how much I missed it.

We got to the bottom of the stairs just as Bosco and Ty were coming in. Ty's eyes brightened when he saw us and his face broke out into a wide grin. I could smell the alcohol even before he reached me and I cast a look over his shoulder towards Bosco. He held up his hands indicating that there was nothing he could do about it. He was right, of course, and I pasted a welcoming smile on my face.

Ty had on a pair of black dress pants and a white cardigan sweater. The pants accentuated how much weight he had lost in the past few months. They hung from his hips and were only staying on because of the black leather belt that was around his waist. His once black hair was now starting to turn gray at the sides and the temples. The salt and pepper appearance seemed to change him from the virile man he once was.

"So this is him, huh?" He asked, the Jack Daniels lingering on his breath. I tried not to make a face and instead, held my breath. " He sure is cute, is'n he though?" He slurred, reaching out to touch the sleeping infant.

"Yes..he's sweet. He's a really good baby too." I said.

"Can I hold him?" He asked, reaching his arms.

"Hold him—uh sure you can. Let's just go into the livingroom." I said as cheerfully as I could. I backed away from his reach and started off down the hall.

The truth was that I wasn't sure he was in any condition to hold a new born baby. He reeked of alcohol and I was afraid that he'd drop him.

I cast a glance behind me and saw that Bosco had to take him by the elbow and guide him along. He stumbled every few feet and I was sure that it would only be a matter of time before he hit the floor.

"Okay bud, easy there." I could hear Bosco saying behind me.

Poor Ty, I thought, as I went into the livingroom. He had become a shell of the man he was when Sasha was alive. Thinking of my friend again put tears in my eyes, as it usually did when I thought about all that she had lost. What I had lost. It would kill her to see the man she loved in such a state. He had never gotten over her. He had nothing left to hold on to now that she was gone. His parents were both long gone. His father when he was a teen and his mother, Maggie, had died of cancer almost four years before that. He had no real relationship with his son, Tyrone, who was too busy to care for the father who wanted no help and could not see that he was destroying what was left of his life.

As long as I live I will always remember the way he looked at her funeral; like he wasn't even on this earth anymore. His angel had gone up to heaven and taken his heart and his whole life with him. His red rimmed eyes haunted me in my sleep sometimes, so dull and void of all emotion. Maybe Davis would be the very thing he needed to carry on and live his life.

Ty and Bosco came shuffling into the livingroom and Ty sat down heavily beside me. He looked so old now, mostly due to the excessive drinking and no exercise, which probably wouldn't have helped anyway. He was so skinny he looked like a waif compared to the hard bodied man he once was.

"So, Davis–Monroe—Boscorelli. That's quite a name." He said, taking time to separate all three names. "It's nice, though." He added, looking over at me.

"Ya. I was surprised at the name, but happy." I said, a little uncomfortable with his slurring every word he said. It was only a matter of minutes before he would say the things I knew had built up inside him for the past few months. My heart fluttered in anticipation for what was to come. We had never talked about the turn of events that had led to the conception of the child, nor had we talked about anything related to it. It was just too painful. I wasn't sure if Bosco and Ty had spoke about it, for I never really knew what they talked about and what they didn't. But if they had, I hadn't known.

Ty took his time looking over at the baby, smiling a bit, although not in the shape to be as pleased as we were about the arrival of our new addition. His dark eyes scanned over me, accusing me of rasing the ass who had gotten his little girl pregnant, wanting to say so much more, so much. Obviously, he had something in mind to say to me. I could tell it wasn't going to be nice. It wasn't like I wasn't expecting it, though. I had waited for months to hear Ty's reaction about Mikey getting Carly pregnant, but it had never come. That's probably why I had avoided him for so long. I didn't want to hear what he had to say.

"So..you know what I don't get?" He asked scornfully. "I don't get how _your_ son gets my daughter pregnant when she's married to your _other_ son, who makes her give up her child when he should be looking at the_ other _guy and blaming him. That's what I don't get. Care to explain it to me?"

I winced and glanced over at Bosco, who did the same. Oh, Ty Davis could be nasty when he had a mind to. I remembered how mean he had been to Sasha when they had broken up after her abortion. The drinking defenately encouraged his behaviour.

"It took two to make this child, Ty. I don't think it's very fair of you to imply otherwise." I said softly, not wanting this to turn into a screaming match over whose child was more to blame.

"Sure it did, Faith. But I'm sure that he pressured her...I know what Mike's like and so do you. He'd sleep with anything that would spread her legs." He said nastily.

My mouth dropped open in shock. He was intent to hurt us as much as he hurt. But it stung to hear words from the man who had been our closest and best friend for so many years. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he was referring to his own daughter, but when I opened my own mouth to say it, Bosco interrupted me

"That's enough, Ty! Shut your mouth! We can't sit around here and blame each other's kids for this mess! It's both of their faults..all three of them are to blame! It's not going to help anyone to talk like this."

"Why? Can't own up to your kids mistakes?" He shot back.

"_Own up? Own_ up to my kids mistakes? What the hell do you think we're doing here anyway? Do you see any of our kids here to take responsibility for this child?" He hissed, extending his arm toward me. "NO! You don't...and you know why?" He asked, his own face starting to blaze.

"No, why don't you tell me why!" Ty goaded.

Bosco scoffed and shook his head. "Because MY son and YOUR daughter were BOTH too damn selfish, that's why...so don't give me your bullshit, man! They are all to blame here and I'm not going to discuss this any further with you. It won't do any good. So, don't put the blame on my boys and not look at your own, Ty."

Ty's mouth curled up into a sneer. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well that Carly could have kept him if she wanted..no matter what Mike or Brett or anyone else said. But she didn't. She left him at the hospital and walked out the door without telling Faith that she didn't want him! You want to talk about irresponsibility? I think you might want to consider that Carly played a lot more in this game than you realize."

"Let me see 'em." He said, ignoring what Bosco had said and reaching over to pluck him out of my arms.

Bosco swallowed and sat rigid on the rocker. Inside, I could tell that he was seething, but that caring part of him, the one that remembered how hard the past year had been on his best friend, stopped him from clocking him one. There had been a time that Bosco wouldn't have thought twice about it, but now, he was too old to be doing that sort of stuff. And he wasn't about to hit his best friend when he was already down.

"Careful." I said, a little too sharply, when Ty awkwardly took Davis into his shaking hands."Hold his head, Ty."

"Faith." He chastised me, a little look of anger on his face. "I think I know how to hold one of these."

"Sorry–I just— I just get nervous. He's so small and fragile and–"

"And I'm the drunk that might drop him? Is that what you're saying?" He questioned. Looking over at me sarcastically.

I recoiled and sat up straighter. Obviously he hadn't lost sense of what was going on around him. He was still as perceptive as ever.

"No! Ty– I"m sorry...I'm just– concerned about you...your drinking–" I started to say, looking over at Bosco, who was sitting on the rocking chair, to come to my rescue. He looked over at me and made a face, warning me to watch what I said. He shook his head about a quarter of an inch and mouthed the word 'no' to me.

Ty's face screwed up in anger and hurt at my accusation. He turned his body more toward me, his dark eyes flashing. " What did you just say to me?" He barked. "You're concerned with my drinking? And just how is _what _I drink or _how much _I drink any of your damned business? Bosco?" He looked over at my husband. "You feel the same way as she does?"

Bosco stood up and extended his arm toward his best friend. "This isn't the time or the place, Ty. I'm sorry that we all got out of line—this is just really hard on all of us. The last thing we need to do is be fighting over this."

"Oh, we're gonna talk about it now! I don't see how you think that I have a drinking problem—I may drink a little more than I used to but I'm havin a rough time of things and I can drink as much as I damn well please." He told us, looking from one to the other. "Sorry we all can't be as happy as you two love birds are...with your hand holding and your hugging all the time. Get a room, would ya?"

So that was it.

He was looking at us and thinking about what he had lost. He, too, had a wonderful marriage to a woman that he loved more than life itself and now it was gone. He resented us for the happiness that we now had, the happiness that he wanted to badly but would never have again.

He briefly held Davis to his chest and then leaned down and kissed his tiny face. I could see the emotion that was in his heart. I could see that this entire situation was tearing him apart the same way it was both of us. The only difference was that Bosco and I had each other.

Who did he have?

That day, I watched years of friendship and good times be replaced by an anger and jealousy so strong that it rocked the core of that friendship until I wondered if it would ever be undone. I saw one man who had loved and lost and had no idea how to carry on. I saw the other, the one who had loved and won, and both of those men had no idea just how much they meant to each other anymore.

And that was the saddest thing of all.


	28. My Son's Son

Author's Note: This is dedicated to Kristen, aka TW Basketcase. I hear you loud and clear. I'm still shocked over the finale. I was really hoping that Faith and Bosco would get together after all they've been through...but we all know what a nasty character Faith turned out to be and I'm so upset and saddened by the way the writers tore apart that sacred bond that they had. Could there really be another woman out there that knows Bosco more than Faith? Could there be a woman who could tame him the way she can? I doubt it. And so, it is left up to us, the faithful readers, to continue on with the story and make it into our own thoughts and dreams for the characters that we have grown to love in the past six years. _Third Watch will go on; if only in our imaginations_. Enjoy.

**My Son's Son**

After the horrible morning we had with Ty I was thankful to see Bosco get into our Mustang and drive him the hell home. I know it was harsh but in the past few months Ty had become a person that I really didn't want to be around. Yes, we had years of friendship and good times but they had been replaced by death and sadness; jealousy and bitter tears, and I didn't know how much more I could take.

I watched them pull out of the driveway from inside the front door. I held Davis in my arms as I pondered just where we were going from here. The questions were swirling around my mind like snowflakes during a wind-ridden storm. Over and over I thought about Sasha and how much I missed her; I wondered how we were going to raise this baby without an all-out battle between the grandparents, but most of all I wondered how my second son was going to react when he found out that his son was going to be raised by his mother and father; two people with which he had a very shaky relationship with at the moment. Davis stirred in my arms and opened his blue eyes and bawled his tiny fists in the air before letting out a howl of hunger and distress.

"I hear you buddy. Loud and clear." I murmured as I turned and made my way back to the kitchen to prepare him a bottle.

It took Bosco about a half an hour to drive Ty home and then get back to our house. It was about one-thirty when he pulled into the drive. I watched him from the kitchen window and saw the slow way he walked, his shoulders pulled down into a slump. From his body language I figured that the drive hadn't gone well. I set a plate on the table with all of the things I thought he would like and waited for him to come inside. I sat down and finished giving Davis his bottle.

I heard the front door open and close and the soft thud of his sneakers on the hard wood floor. The closer he got the more nervous I became. I didn't know why, I just really wasn't anxious to hear what ever else Ty had to say.

He rounded the corner, his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his jeans and he sighed upon seeing me.

"That bad?' I asked, glancing up at him.

He shook his head and let out another sigh. " You know, I thought that it would be a good idea for him to come over here and see the baby but it just seemed to get him even more worked up."

I bit down on my lower lip as he came and sat across from me. "What else did he say, or do I not want to know?"

He sprinkled some salt and pepper on his tomato's and potato salad without replying.

"Bos?"

"Faith– he was really–" He paused for a moment trying to find the right words. He coked his head to the side, considering what he'd say. "He was really nasty. It doesn't matter what he said. He was just drunk anyway."

He pushed his food around the plate as I stared at him. I knew how much it was taking out of him, being treated like that by his best friend. It hurt me, as it hurt him. Inwardly, I cried for all that we had been, the four of us, and now the three of us. Damn him.

"Well, I won't pressure you." I said softly as I picked Davis up and propped him over my shoulder to give him a burp. I gently patted his shoulder blades hoping that he would burp and get it over with. He was a hard kid to get a burp out of.

"Thanks."

"So Mikey's coming over about four and we didn't eat any of this lunch so I figure that we'll just save it for supper."

"Sounds good to me. I'm not hungry anyway." He said.

"Bos–"

"Please, Faith. I don't want to talk about it right now." He said in a weary voice that he reserved for when he really meant that he didn't want to discuss it. He set his fork down and rubbed his hand over his jaw. "Let me take him for a while. You go and rest or– just do something for yourself."

"I'm okay." I said, not wanting to throw anything else on him at the moment.

"I know—I just want to take him for a walk or something—give you some time to yourself." He said, getting up and coming around the table to me. Without a word I handed Davis over to him and he resumed trying to burp him while I started to clear the table.

The afternoon sped by and before I knew it, it was almost four o'clock. I didn't have any other preparations to make for the meal, so I sat down on our sectional sofa in the livingroom to wait for my son to arrive. I thought about the conversation I had had with Emma about an hour earlier.

She had called to tell me that both her and Rob had a week's vacation and they were taking Little Faith to Disney World to see Mickey Mouse. She called from the airport and when she heard the worry and distraction in my voice, immediately demanded to know what was wrong. I didn't see the point in lying to her or keeping it from her. The easiest thing to do was to tell her the truth, which I did.

She was floored, to say the least. She had been waiting for the news for days, knowing that Carly was due around that time. She was angry and hurt that we hadn't told her sooner. I tried to explain that her father and I wanted Mike to see the baby before we told anyone else. She pouted, exclaiming that she wasn't just 'anyone else'. I thought she was going to hang up on me, but she didn't.

She then told me that part of the reason she was calling was to let us know that she and Rob had found a pre-school in the city that they had enrolled Little Faith in and that we wouldn't need to be babysitting anymore during the week. I was shocked, but realized that it was probably her way of punishing us for keeping secrets from her and for not including her in everything that had gone on. She wanted to know if we planned on raising Davis ourselves and then laughed when I told her we were.

"Sure. Faith to the rescue." Was her only comment.

Knowing that she was hurt, I didn't call her on it.

I felt a tiny bit guilty for not telling her about Arthur either, but we hadn't told anyone else and it really was our decision. She was going to be more angry when we told her about the Logan family but there was nothing I could do about it now. I thanked her for calling to let us know and wished her a wonderful trip.

It seemed that sadness had become my best friend, my one companion that never left my side, those days. I sat at my kitchen table for the longest time after I hung up, wondering if I had done the right thing by not telling her right away. I felt so much sadness for my family, for my children, it was almost to much. On the other hand, I had done what I had to do, both Bosco and myself. We didn't have to apologize for our actions.

Bosco and Davis were upstairs taking a nap when I heard the front door open and close.

"Ma? Dad? I'm here." Came Mikey's loud voice from the entryway.

I jumped off the couch and went out into the hall. He was just taking off his sneakers, balancing both of his arms against the door jamb and using one foot to ease off each of his shoes. He wore a pair of nice looking blue jeans and a gray NYPD sweatshirt and a blue New York Yankees baseball cap. He looked so much like his father had at that age. I could see Bosco all over again in those eyes and face, the shape of his body. He certainly was his father's son.

"Hi Mike. It's good to see you, son." I said as I walked toward him. He grinned at me and surprisingly, reached out to give me a hug. "Thanks for coming. We have some important stuff to talk about."

"You look good ma." He said kindly. "And how could I not come?"

When he pulled back I took a closer look at him. He had grown his hair out longer than he usually did, leaving it scruffy looking, but not so much so that the Lieu would make him get it cut. It had started to curl a bit at the ends and was half way down the base of his neck. His cheeks and face were healthy with a dark red tan. He looked well rested, more than the last time I had seen him, and he seemed happy and his beautiful eyes seemed to shine.

"So, did you see him?" He asked, smiling widely. He looked like quite the proud father. If I hadn't known what he had done in the last few months I might have even fell for it.

I pulled my head back, shocked. "Who?" I asked.

It wasn't possible that he already knew about Davis being home with us...or was it? Had my hunch been right all along, that he and Carly had still communicated? A sick feeling came to rest in my stomach as I looked suspiciously at my son.

"No, Ma..the baby... Didja see Davis? Carly told me you were coming to see him. Doesn't he look like her?" He asked.

I struggled to keep my face void of the shock and anger that was taking over me. He knew?

I stepped back and folded my arms over my breasts and looked crossly at him. "You knew? You knew we she was planning and you didn't say anything?" I growled.

He opened his mouth to speak, shock now registering in his face. "Ma—"

I pointed my finger at him. "You knew! How could not say anything?" I asked, my voice turning high and my eyes starting to water. "When your father called to tell you to come over you already knew what we wanted to talk to you about?"

"Ma—Carly told me–" He started.

"Carly told you what? To keep your mouth shut so that neither of you would have to take responsibility for the child you made?"

"What are you talking about ma? Just—" He sputtered, catching my anger. He narrowed his gaze and looked down at me, seemingly not understanding.

"Oh..what am I talking about? I'm talking about you and Carly and–" I stabbed at him.

"Me and Carly what? I didn't make any plans with Carly. I just went to Boston to be in the delivery room with her. It was the least I could do."

"Oh, sure!"

At that point Bosco came down the stairs. "Stop raising your voice!" He hissed at me.

"Dad–" Mikey began, looking to his father and raising his hands. "Dad–just let me explain."

"Michael—you bet your ass you'll explain—don't even worry about that." Bosco said dryly as he got to the bottom of the stairs and faced the two of us. "Now before we have another big fight, let's just go into the livingroom and talk calmly."

I opened my mouth to speak, as did Mikey but he put both of his hands in the air. "I don't want to hear it! You can yell in the livingroom as well as you can do it in the hall."

Mikey shot me a fierce look and marched down the hall in front of us. "Why don't you just ask Carly?"He asked, looking back at us.

"Michael, just go sit down."Bosco said crossly as we all entered the livingroom. Mike sat down in the rocker and Bosco and I both took the couch.

The one thing I could always count on was getting in a fight with him in about ten seconds flat. It was that way with all of my children. Both Bosco and I had tempers, as did all of our children. It just seemed sad that we could never stay calm at all.

"Michael, we wanted you to come over here today so we could discuss the baby and so that we could settle a few things." Bosco began, sitting forward, clasping his hands together.

Mikey leaned forward and gave his father a hurt look. "I know that. What I don't understand is why I get the damn third degree when I walk through the door." He said, shooting another look in my direction.

I tucked my legs up under my self and shook my head. "You don't understand? What did you think we were going to do? Congratulate you on abandoning your son?"

"Abandoning my son? What are you talking about?"

"Mike, don't act like you don't know what the hell is going on. You were there for his birth. You and Carly obviously kept in contact through the last few months. I don't see why we're re-hashing this subject." Bosco said, trying to keep himself calm.

He sat forward and gave both of us a helpless look. "I was there..yes...but I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't abandon him."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Well, whatever you want to call it...the fact remains that we want to know what your intentions are, or if you have any at all." I snapped.

" Why?" He demanded. "And what about my intentions? For what?" He asked angrily. "I'm not going to try and have any relationship with Carly, if that's what you're getting at."

"Mike...don't do this. Your mother and I have taken on a huge responsibility and you owe us the decency to tell us if you want any kind of relationship with him before we go to court." Bosco said.

"Court? What are you talking about?" He said in frustration. He leaned forward and clasped his hands, mirroring his father. " Look, I'll admit that I was a first class asshole to Carly, but we talked about it and I told her that I'd give her four hundred dollars a month to look after him. I know it took me a while–" He said, looking from one of us to the other. "But at least I came around. I'm taking responsibility for him."

Bosco looked over at me and gave me a questioning look. This was news to us. Carly hadn't mentioned a word about Mikey giving her any money to look after his son. It was clear to me that we were the one's in the dark in this situation.

"You told her you'd support him?" I asked, not understanding why she would want him to agree to give her money when we were raising the child.

"Yes! We talked about it at the hospital." He said earnestly, searching our faces to see if we believed him. " I told her I'd give her money, anything she wanted. I felt bad...for...for everything." He said, looking down at the floor now, ashamed. " I know I ruined everything with my own brother...I ruined our relationship and I can't take that back. But I honestly want to do the right thing for the baby. I swear I do." He said, looking back up at us. "I already signed my rights away for the child I'd made with Cath and I didn't want to do it again...I couldn't do it again."

Bosco stood up and walked over to the window and didn't respond. I sat back, stunned. I didn't even know where to begin; what questions to ask. I was terribly afraid that Carly had pulled one on him as well as us.

"So, she wanted you to pay child support?" I asked.

"I offered and she accepted. She also agreed to let me have him every second weekend and one night through the week, since she's gonna be living with Ty again. I jus figured that since I'm the kid's father, I should own up to the responsibility."

"What!" Bosco shouted, still looking out the window.

Living with Ty? Just what other lies had Carly Davis concocted? Had she lead my son to believe that she was keeping this child? Had she told him that she would actually leave Brett and her shop and just come back here so that he could see the child that he hadn't shown any interest in since the time he found out about her pregnancy? I seriously doubted it.

"What? I thought you'd be happy...I already have a nursery set up for him at my apartment..." He said, not understand just how much of a fool he'd been taken for. It made me sick. It made my blood start to boil. Was there no limit to how far or low that Carly would sink?

What I couldn't understand was why, for the life of him, my son was wanting to lay claim on a child that had almost broken up a marriage and ruined a brotherly relationship? A child that he had said might not even be his? After the way he had treated Carly at her mother's funeral? I couldn't wrap my head around it. If it was true...if...I would be happy and do all I could to see that Mikey took responsibility for his son...but there had to be more to it. There just had to be.

"Mike, what, _exactly, _did Carly tell you that she was going to do with this baby?" I asked slowly.

"What? Why don't you ask her yourself?" He said, growing more frustrated and confused with each minute that passed. "Isn't she at her father's house? Just call her and tell her to come over." He said.

Bosco turned around, concern for our son growing by the second. "What are you talking about? She's not at Ty's house."

Mikey exhaled his breath and threw up his hands in the air. "Well...do you know where she is, then?" He turned to look at his father. "I'm tellin you that I'm takin responsibility for him...I swear it!"

I groaned. He really had no idea what was happening. He was a victim, not the same way we were, but a victim just the same. He had come clean to us, accepted his responsibility and he had come to his senses and decided to support his son, only he had been deceived and lied to. I don't know why I was surprised. At this point, we couldn't be sure of anything.

"Mike, I want to know why you have such an interest in this child. Why now? Why not months ago?" I asked.

He looked away for a moment and bit down on his lower lip, a trait that he had inherited from me.

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do." He said softly.

"Now? Now it was the right thing to do? After the way you treated her for so long? Why now?" I pursued.

"Because...I...I..." He stumbled over his words and then sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try us. We can only understand if you tell us what's going on." Bosco said.

"Dad...I know you won't."

"Michael, we love you and we are happy about you wanting to see your son, but it's a drastically different attitude than you had for the last few months. There's something you're not telling us." Bosco continued. "And we have the right to know. We are putting our lives on hold for you. We've been lied to and treated like shit and we're tired of it. Damn sick and tired. So spill." Bosco warned.

"I'm telling you that you don't want to hear what I have to say. You won't see what I see and you won't believe it even if I tell you, so why don't you just let it be?"

"That's enough!" I yelled, terribly frustrated with the run-around. "Cut the shit, Michael Maurice! Did your hear your father—"

"Because I'm in love with her!" He yelled back.

I almost choked on my own tongue. In love with Carly? How much more messed up could this get?

"In love with her? How can that be? How can–"

"Ma–just listen." He cut in with a brief wave of his hand. "I've been in love with her for years. Ever since I was a kid. But Brett had to have her. He had to take her away to Boston to follow him and his own dreams. I love her–yes. I hate her too. And the only thing that I have left of her is my son. I know it came too late. I know I made mistakes but this child is mine and I want her to know that I love him."

"What about Carmelle?" Bosco asked grimly. "You said that you were thinking about proposing to her. What happened to that?"

"She broke up with me a few days ago. She knew that I loved someone else. Everyone thought it was Cath that I loved...when it wasn't. It was Carly all along." He replied. "I loved her for years and someday I'm gonna tell her, too. I'm not the only one who can have a relationship, you know." He said, directing the comment to me. "Brett treated her like shit and you never even knew. But _I_ knew." He said, poking himself in the chest. "_I knew_. And that night, she confessed _everything _to me and I made her feel better. I made love to her...and she wanted me. She _wanted_ me. She just changed her mind after it was over. She was afraid of Brett. And I made her feel better."

"Oh, Michael..." I said, my voice breaking. "There's so much that you don't know.." I buried my face in my hands. Bosco came over to me and sat down, putting his arm around me.

"What?" Mikey, asked, now sounding afraid. "Is something wrong? What's going on?"

"Mike...we have something to tell you." Bosco began. "Something that we thought you knew, but I guess she fooled you too."

"Fooled me? What the hell are you trying to tell me!" He roared, all control gone. He stood up and put his hands on his hips and glared at the two of us, who were trying to have one more second, trying to find the courage to tell him what Carly had done. His eyes were now wild looking, the cords in his neck were straining, the blue green veins prominent.

"She didn't move back to New York, Mike—" Bosco began in a tight voice.

"What?" He yelled. "She told me that I'd get him every second weekend! What am I supposed to do? Fly up there? Does she have any idea how much that shit costs?"

Bosco cleared his throat. "No, son. Carly and Brett flew to Japan a few days ago. They left Davis at the hospital." He said slowly.

Mikey stumbled backwards and sank down into the rocker. "What?" He asked, this time more softly, a kind of defeat creeping into his voice. "She left him there? They went to Japan? Oh, dammit, just tell me what the hell is going on and where my son is."

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat that threatened to choke me. "Mike, I flew out there to see her—"

"I know! She told me you were coming to see her and the baby..she told me that you wanted to be there to help her out and stuff...since Sasha was...gone."

Liar!

"Mike, I went there under the impression that he hadn't been born yet but when I arrived I found out that he'd already arrived. Carly told me that you'd given up your rights to him–"

He raised his hand. "That's not true!" He yelled again. "She put my name on the birth certificate! She told me!"

I groaned again. "Honey, she didn't. She left him. She signed away her rights and she walked out the door and hopped on a plane with your brother and they aren't coming back."

"So he's gone? My son is gone! That bitch! I'll kill her myself!" He yelled, pounding his fist on his thigh.

Bosco left the room shaking his head. I suspected that he was close to tears. I got off the couch and went to embrace my son, but he lunged out of the chair and began to pace the room like a panther about to draw blood, Carly's blood. "She told me that I could see him...she told me that I had to be his father...she already took eight hundred dollars from me!"

"She what?"

"She took money from me for baby supplies and shit...she lied to me! Now I'll never get to see my son! "

"Mike, listen to me. I didn't tell you what happened..." I began, trying to calm him down.

He stopped dead in his tracks, remembering what I'd said at the first of the conversation. His eyes widened with the realization. "Ma...what you said back there...about her planning something...do you know where he is?"

As if on cue, Bosco came striding through the door with little Davis in his arms. I tapped Mikey on the shoulder and he turned around to see his father standing with his son.

"Ohhhh..." He breathed, what I thought, was a sigh of relief. And for the first time in years, I saw my second son break down and cry as he reached out to take his newborn baby from the arms of his father. He held him close and kissed his tiny head, tears now coming down and dripping into the baby's hair. He looked up at me, genuine love and gratitude on his face. It had been so long since I saw anything resembling real love directed at me from him. "Thank you...thank you."

I began to cry along with him and walked over and rubbed Mikey on the back, feeling at that moment that everything was going to work out just fine. Bosco came around and hugged me from behind and whispered in my ear.

"It's about time we had a happy ending."


	29. Days of Fall

Authors Note: Thank you for the reviews. As you know, it only take a good one to get me writing faster. Hope you enjoy.

**Days of Fall**

As the days passed, I felt a new sense of happiness engulf my life and make me think that everything was working out as well as we could have hoped for. There were so many changes going on in our lives that it was hard to keep up. Davis was now three months old and starting to roll over all by himself. He recognized all of us and was even starting to smile at each one of us in turn as he felt like it.

His dark curly hair was his best feature, along with his deeply blue eyes and his dimples at the corners of his plump cheeks. He was absolutely beautiful to behold.

Bosco and I took to our role of grandparents again with the zest and zeal of twenty year olds. We truly were enjoying our new addition to the family. We were both up at the crack of dawn with our precious one, making bottles and changing diapers. When we had a quiet moment alone, which hardly ever happened with a new-born in the house, we would sit together on the back porch veranda and talk about the future. What surprised us the most was Mikey's request to move back into the house so that he could help out with Davis and to establish his role as Davis's father. We agreed, of course, and when Davis was two weeks old, Mikey moved back into our home and took over his old room, which was turned into a nursery/bedroom, for Mikey wanted to be as close to his son as possible. He spent almost all of his free time with his son, taking him for walks in the stroller and just playing with him. Both Bosco and I were thrilled with his decision to be a part of Davis's life. At least he had one parent that would be there for him.

It had been three months since Brett and Carly had flown to Japan. We hadn't heard a thing from them and I found my anger and resentment building with each passing day that we didn't receive a phone call or even a postcard. It was as if they had fallen off the face of the earth. I wanted to talk to Brett badly but it wasn't because I missed him. I was too angry and hurt to even think about being civil to my third son, who consequently, had relinquished his relationship to all of us, but I did want to tell him that he would always regret his decision to push Carly into giving up her child. He would never know how much damage he had done to the Davis family or to ours. And I had the feeling that he probably didn't care. I wondered what his reaction would be, and hers too, when they found out that Mikey had taken responsibility for his son. It didn't matter anyway, because Mikey had done us proud. Both of us.

About a week after we had brought Davis home, and after we had reacquainted Mikey with his son, Bosco and I went to our lawyer to see if we could make sure that Davis remained with our family. I seriously doubted that Carly would try and take him back some day but I didn't want to take that chance. Both Bosco and myself wanted Mikey to be the father that he was entitled to be and got the papers drawn up that stated he was Davis's father and also that Carly had abandoned her son. It was no problem to do so, our lawyer had said and got the paperwork in order. We were no longer Davis's guardians, just his grandparents. Although I didn't admit it, I hoped that Mikey wouldn't get tired of looking after a baby and just walk away. But I knew that if he did, he would turn his rights over to us.

September was upon us and almost over, with it's not-so-warm nights and the reminder of summer passed. Soon the trees would start to shed their leaves and the grass would start to dry up. Personally, I loved the fall with it's oranges and brown and yellow colors to feast our eyes upon. The pumpkins on the doorstep, the leaves turning a crackly brown color. It would be Davis's first Halloween, I thought to myself excitedly. I planned on dressing him up as a tiny pumpkin. It amazed me that after three months we could not imagine our lives without our little boy in our house. Bosco gently tried to remind me time and time again that some day Mikey would probably move out and get a place of his own, but I continuously tried to push that thought from my mind. I liked things as they were.

In the three months that Davis had been living with us, we had not heard a word from Ty. Bravely enough, Mikey had taken Davis over to see him once, thinking that he was doing the right thing, but upon his return all we had to do was take one look at his dejected face to know that the visit hadn't gone well. Ty was still drinking hard, Mikey had revealed and he was much too polite to mention any of the other things that Ty must have said to him about us, but I could tell that it wasn't good. I didn't press the issue. Ty had made his own bed and he would have to lie in it. However, between working and looking after his son, Mikey still made an effort to take as many pictures of Davis and when they were developed he would make sure he sent Ty some in the mail. I was proud of my son for the way he was handling everything. He had sure come a long way.

In between working in his garage on a new rocking horse for Davis and a beautiful doll-house for Little Faith, Bosco squeezed in a few visits with Arthur. I think he mostly did it for the old man whom he knew didn't have much time left. We still hadn't told Mikey or Emma about the relationship and I was starting to wonder if we ever would, but I knew it was up to my husband to make that decision. Bosco would come home each time bearing new stories about his paternal family, about things his half brother and sister had done when they were children. MacKenzie had died as a young boy, but his sister, Cara, was now a famous soap-opera star. Bosco said that Arthur frequently asked about me and the children and wanted to know if he would be able to meet them some day. I didn't even have to ask the answer to that one, for Bosco was still getting to know his father and part of me wondered if he was just enjoying having him all to himself. And even though he never said it, I got the feeling that he was almost happy about it.

Then one Saturday morning around the first of October I noticed that our neighbors were having a yard sale across the street. Anxious to be one of the first ones over there, I pulled on a NYPD sweatshirt of Mikey's and my flip flops and dashed out the door. It was no secret. If I saw a yard sale I had to stop and go see what they were selling. It didn't matter if we were on our way somewhere, or if I had only two dollars in my pocket. I always found something great. Once, I found an antique plant stand that was made out of the darkest wood and it was only five dollars! Bosco always made fun of me, that was until he found an old replica of a Mustang car that was almost fifty years old, and he paid twenty-five dollars for it. After that, he had no problem stopping the car and following me around looking for treasure.

On this particular day, I came home with about ten pairs of sleepers for Davis, a Little Tykes swing that we could put up in the back yard and a little Nike splash suit and sneaker set. I couldn't wait to see how it looked on him. The best part was that I only paid eleven dollars for everything! God bless the person who invented yard sales!

I walked back across the street, awkwardly balancing all of my stuff and walked up the front steps. I had to set the swing down in order to open the screen door and then balance the door against my shoulder while I picked it back up. I was so excited about my success at the yard sale that I almost missed the ringing of the phone.

"Bos?" I called out as I hurried down the hallway, dropping the swing mid run, sleepers dangling off the sides of my arms. "Bos, can you get that?"

"I'm bathing Davis." He called out from the kitchen. "I can't leave him...or he'll roll right off the counter, won't you little man?" I could hear him say.

I rounded the corner and dropped everything on the floor. Davis was lying on a blue bath towel with his head hung over the sink so Bosco could wash his dark hair, his little arms and legs kicking in protest.. Bosco was wearing a pair of jeans with no shirt. It was probably better that way, considering that he had more water on him than Davis did. I grinned as I looked at my husband doing the best he could to bath our wiggly grandson.

"I know buddy, it sucks to do this to you, but frankly, you were starting to get a little stinky." Bosco said in his best baby voice as the phone continued its shrill ringing.

The phone had rung at least seven times by this point. What was I doing running like a chicken with my head cut off anyway? If it was important they'd call back. However, I grabbed it off the hook and said a breathy "Hello", in time.

"Faith?" The voice on the other line sounded crackly and distant. I had to cover my ear to hear.

"Yes?

"It's Carly. How are you?"

Was I dreaming, or was Carly Davis _actually _calling me and asking how _I_ was? Oh, if she wanted to know, she'd get an earful. I took a deep breath and prepared to let her know exactly how I was and so help me God, this time she was going to listen.


	30. Too Little, Too Late

Authors Note: Again, thanks to my best reviewer, TWBasketcase, for the wonderful reviews. This story has definitely become all for you, girl! You are always my faithful, ever present hope! And I hope everyone else enjoys this as well.

**To Little, Too Late**

Stunned, I took the telephone over to the kitchen table and sat down. My heart was racing a mile a minute, I was so surprised and taken a-back by Carly calling out of the blue. I had so many things to say, so many hurtful words that I had concocted in my imaginary conversations that I had had with her over the past few months, that I didn't know where to begin. How was I? Well, let's see—

"Faith? Are you there? I can't hear you very well." Came her voice at me again.

"How am I? Do you really care how I am? How any of us are?" I asked icily, trying to control my voice.

Upon hearing my tone Bosco turned around and gave me a questioning look. I held my finger up at him to give me a second. He picked Davis up and wrapped the blue towel around him and carried him over to the table and set him in his baby seat and sat down on the chair opposite mine.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked innocently.

"Are you _kidding_?" I asked her sarcastically.

"Who is it, Faith?" Bosco asked, as he picked up the baby brush and began to softly run it through Davis's mop of dark hair.

"No. I'm not kidding. I just wanted to see how you were doing and how the baby was." She said.

My eyes opened as wide as saucers as I grasped for my next breath. She was serious–she was actually calling me, the person she had lied to and manipulated beyond belief, and asking about the child she had abandoned. I was speechless. "Are you seriously calling me to find out how Davis is? After what you did to him? After what you did to us? You must be out of your mind!"

Bosco's mouth hung open as he set the brush down on the table and covered Davis's ears with his hands, a silly look on his face. As if that would help. "Is that her? Is that Carly?" He asked incredulously. "That little bitch has the nerve to call here and ask how he's doing? Let me talk to her!" He demanded, in a harsh whisper.

I rolled my eyes at the sight of him covering Davis's ears and covered the mouth piece with my hand. As if Davis understood the words he was saying. "Bosco—what are you doing? He can't understand what you're saying!"

He shot me an impolite, holier-than-thou look and smirked at me, but didn't release his hold on Davis's ears, and leaned toward me. "Dr. Spock says that you shouldn't talk about serious stuff in front of infants." He lectured.

In spite of myself, I almost laughed, but didn't. "Is that so? Well, maybe we can make up a new kind of sign language so that when we want to talk about serious stuff, all you have to do is wave your arms around and make secret signals." I dead-panned, my eyes wide and goofy looking.

"Here's a signal–" He said, this time covering Davis's eyes with one hand and flipping me the bird with the other. "See if you can guess the secret about what that means." He said with a shake of his head.

Carly spoke again, bringing me back to the conversation at hand.

"Faith? Are you gonna tell me how he is? Please–don't hang up on me. I've lost so many nights sleep over wondering how you're doing, how he's doing." She pleaded

I shook my head at Bosco and then stood up and began to pace around the room. "Carly, you have no right to call here after what you did. I'm sorry but it's too late."

"Faith! He made me do it! Brett made me give him up! I had no choice." She whined like a little kid.

That pissed me off. Made her do it? She _chose_ to leave him at the hospital. She _chose_ to leave him behind and leave me to pick up the pieces.

"_Made_ you do it? What, are you, five?" I demanded harshly. "You did what you wanted to do, kid! Now you have to live with it!"

"Be reasonable...Faith, I was thinking about coming back to New York and seeing my son. I've made a mistake...a terrible mistake!"

"Be reasonable? What do you call leaving your child at the hospital? You think you're up for mother of the year? Reasonable doesn't even apply to this situation. You're damn right you made a mistake, Carly! And there's no way in hell that you're gonna set your eyes on him now...do you hear me...no way in hell!"

"_Please_, Faith...just let me come and see him...one time! Just one time...I can leave Brett and come back if you tell me that I can see him...only if you'll let me see him! _He's my son_!"

"I'm sorry, but he's not your son. Not anymore. Michael has custody of Davis.. He's Michael's son now." I said, lowering my voice a little. I wasn't completely uncompassionate. She was his birth mother, and I knew that in some ways she would always regret her decision. But I would not allow her to come back and ruin my other sons life.

"Mike? What do you mean?"

"Carly, I don't know what game you're playing , but we aren't going to be a part of it. Michael has taken over the responsibility of raising him, not that it's any of your business now." I said curtly. "We've already been to court over it. You abandoned him and it's on record. That, and we also had about twenty nurses from Boston Memorial ready to testify on my behalf. You're finished here."

Bosco was now up from the table and trying to pry the phone out of my hand. "Faith..let me talk." He growled. I slapped his hand away from mine and grabbed the phone and dragged the long cord out into the hall knowing that he wouldn't leave Davis alone in the kitchen for fear that the three month old just might sprout some athletic legs and leap out of his seat and come running after us, oh heaven forbid, jump up and set the kitchen on fire. Satisfied that he wasn't following me, I leaned up against the wall and hung my head.

Even though I had my chance to make Carly hurt with my stinging words and accusations, I felt awful for it. It was true that when you got the chance to say what was on your mind, remorse was right around the corner, waiting to pounce on you and let you know that, indeed, maybe you were a little too harsh.

I was there when she had been born, all seven pounds of her. I was there for every birthday, every Christmas and Easter vacation. I had seen her grow from an infant to a toddler and from a child into an adult and even though I hated what she had done and I was so angry, I still felt a twinge of guilt over treating Sasha's daughter this way.

Through the crackling of the telephone line I thought I heard her sobbing. I took a deep breath and contemplated my next words to this girl that I had known forever and a day. No matter what, this was my family that she was messing with and I would protect it, come hell or high water.

"Can you just tell me how he is?"

"He's beautiful. He's almost twelve pounds now." I said reluctantly. "He sucks his thumb, the same way that Mike did when he was a baby."

"If I come back home do you think that Mike will let me see him someday? I mean, if I leave Brett for good and come back with no ties?"

My head snapped up and I felt a fierce fire growing inside me. No ties? What did she think this was? Try on one brother and then when he doesn't fit, go back and get the next best thing? In that second, every bit of guilt I had felt over the past few minutes vanished and evaporated until all I could feel was nothing but contempt and spite.

She had married Brett, cheated on him with his brother, lied to all of us, and left her baby without a second thought. It seemed to me that the only person she ever gave a second thought to, or a first thought for that matter, was herself. Carly Davis.

"You listen to me and you listen good—" I barked into the phone. I felt blood thirsty and vengeful in that moment, quite like the anger I had felt at my first husband, Fred, when he had killed my two children from my first marriage. I could see red. I wanted to hit her, to kick the shit out of her and I wanted to make her feel as bad and as hurt as we all had been. I wanted revenge for my sons, for both of them.

And I knew exactly what I could do to accomplish that.

"You will _never_ be a part of our family again—for as long as I'm alive you will never be so much as allowed to bring your lying, cheating, whorish ass on my property----and as for Davis–you'll never get your hands on him. He's not yours anymore and we'll go to any court in this country to keep you as– far—away—as—possible!" I yelled into the phone, stressing my last sentence.

"Faith!"

"Don't ever call here again—or I will hunt you down and make sure you know what it's like to feel real pain!" I screamed and then hung up on her. I threw the phone against the wall, smashing it, leaving the cord being the only thing not damaged.

I let out a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I felt tears of frustration and anger start to cascade down my cheeks. I furiously brushed them away, determined not to let Carly ever control my emotions again. I was done with her.

I turned around and jumped as I saw Bosco standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his bare chest. "Something wrong?"

"Bosco! Don't sneak up on me like that!" I barked at him childishly. I saw the look of hurt pass over his face and then, I was sliding down the wall and plunked down on the floor and buried my face in my hands. "She wants to see him...she wants him back, Bos...and we can't let that happen." I wailed.

He sat down beside me and threw an arm over my shoulder and kissed my hair. "She won't get him. He's ours now and Mike's...it's over. She's just talkin." He said softly, rubbing my back in small circles. "It's official, babe...don't worry." He consoled me.

I sniffled back my tears, although it took a few minutes and looked at him. "You actually left the baby in the kitchen?"

He chuckled. "Now, do you know what Dr. Spock would say about leaving an infant alone in an unoccupied room?" Apparently he had been doing quite a bit of reading lately, and although it was cute, it really seemed like something from the twilight zone.

"Not to?" I asked, lightly.

He reached around the corner of the doorway and dragged the baby seat a few inches until I could see him sleeping contentedly. "You really didn't think that I'd leave him too far behind, do you?" He teased, looking at me with such tenderness I felt bad for snapping at him.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his in a long, lingering kiss. "I love you––you know that, right?"

He nodded and reached out and rubbed his thumb against my cheek lovingly. "I know. No matter what happens—I know and you don't even have to say it." Then he nodded to the now-smashed phone on the floor a few feet away. "Now what are you gonna do about this?"

I smiled at him, for real, this time. "Can't I just ask Dr. Spock?"


	31. Reflections of You and Me

**Reflections of You and Me**

I never did tell Mikey about the phone call we received from Carly that fall morning and we never did hear back from her. Things were going so well for him that I decided that it would be worse for us to mention it. He had confessed to being in love with her and I was afraid that if he knew that she would drop Brett and come back to New York that it would ruin everything he'd worked so hard to build.

He was doing a great job with Davis and he was working harder than ever at the precinct. He had put in to work the seven to three shift and had recently been allowed to move to the second watch. Again, his father and I were very surprised at his changed attitude and how grown up he had become. He often came home with a new outfit or a toy for Davis and loved to see the expression on his small son's face when he walked into the room. Now almost six months old, Davis was absolutely delighted when he saw his father come home. It made me so happy to see Mikey come in the door and his brilliant blue eyes sparkle when he took Davis from my arms and lavish his face with little kisses.

Davis still reminded me so much of Carly, with his dark curly hair and beautiful dark skin. It was almost impossible to tell that he had any of us in him at all, he looked totally African American and we loved him that way. It was almost as if Sasha was in his eyes, those long dark lashes and sweet disposition reminded me of the best friend that I had lost.

If she had still been alive she would have loved to see this cute little boy and it made my heart ache for Ty, who was still drinking almost every day and sometimes calling us in the middle of the night to tell us off or, sometimes, just to ask how Davis was doing. Ty could have been a part of it all if he'd just stopped paying homage to the bottle. But everyone knows that it is impossible to do when you don't think you have a problem. We would have gladly let him see Davis as much as he wanted to, had he not been so mean and disruptive. I knew that Bosco missed him terribly, missed the friendship that they had, missed hanging out with him. But too much had happened and the only way to help those wounds heal was to stop putting ourselves in the middle of the hurt.

It had been six months to the day since Brett and Carly had left us. Six months of us wondering how he was making out. I tried not to think about her; she had done too much damage to all of us, but I did think about him. I wondered if he regretted moving so far away. I wondered if he missed the brother he once had and most of all, I wondered if he would ever recover from the terrible events that had lead him to this place in his life. Wondering, questions, what if's; they ruled my days and haunted my nights.

Emma and I were starting to plan Little Faith's second birthday party and had decided that we would have it at our house because I had the biggest kitchen. I could hardly believe that she was donning on her second year with us. Her hair had grown down a little past her shoulder blades and her blue eyes were more stunning now than they ever were, turning into a deep turquoise color that was sure to melt the hearts of all who saw her. Emma was very happy about Mike's decision to be a father to Davis and although she was deeply hurt by what he had done to Brett, he was still her big brother and she adored him, as he adored her. I was so happy to see my son and daughter actually hanging out together, taking their own children to the park and going for walks with the baby strollers. They had developed more of a bond this past six months and it brought tears to my eyes to see the four of them together. Only a few times did I hear Mikey or Emma bring up the subject of of Kath's baby. They both knew she had a boy but no one had heard from her or even knew exactly where she was. No one else at the precinct had seen or heard from her either. Usually, Emma would ask Mikey if he ever planned on seeing this child but always he would shake his head and give her a look that meant 'don't mess with this subject'. It was painful for him to learn to deal with the mistakes that he had made, painful for him to realize that he had done himself in when he gave up his rights to his unborn child. Both Bosco and myself knew that someday he would regret his actions, but neither of us expected it to happen so soon. It got me to thinking about Kath.

I sat down at the table one fall day to start my shopping list, as I pondered all of the things that had happened in the last little while. The more I thought about it, I wondered how I could have gone so long and not given her a call. I couldn't help the feeling of guilt that engulfed me when I thought about how I had literally dropped her so long ago. Trying to pick up where we left off would be impossible, but I was curious about my third grandchild. I decided to give her a call.

I got up from the table and went to my junk drawer and took out my phone book. I looked up the number and then dialed nervously.

One, two, three rings and then the answering machine came on. "You've reached Kath, Aidan and Owen. We're not home so leave us a message and we'll get back to you." Kath sounded happy on the machine and I prayed that she was. She must have been seeing someone, I thought, upon hearing the two male names mentioned on the tape. I wondered which one was the baby, Aidan or Owen. Both were nice names.

Panicking, I heard the sound of the machine beep and I blurted out my message. "Hi Kath...it's Faith. Havn't heard from you for such a long time...just wondering how you and the baby are...call me sometime. I'd like to see him if I could...it's up to you...okay...bye."

As I hung up the phone I found myself wishing that things had turned out differently. I wished that Mikey had married Kath when he had the chance. She really was a lovely girl. She had been crushed when he broke up with her. Crushed that all of her dreams had turned out to be nightmares and she was lost somewhere in the middle with his son in her womb.

I sat down to complete my list, adding in a few things here and there and finally decided that I needed to get off my lazy butt and go get the groceries or else Davis would surely die of starvation, if not his father or Bosco. Bosco was upstairs having a shower while Davis was taking a nap. The three of us did a lot of things together and it made it easier, but not without a little sadness, that Emma had taken Little Faith to the daycare, otherwise we would have had two small children to tend to every day.

On this day the three of us were going to the market and then out to lunch and then we were going to get an early start on some Christmas shopping. I was always the one who had everything done up and ready to go under the tree by the end of November. I loved Christmas shopping; the bright lights in the stores, the ribbons, the festive mood, the trees all green and decorated. I was like a kid again.

Finally, I was ready to go. I put on a pair of jeans and the red wool sweater that I had gotten Bosco for Christmas the year before, which he hardly wore, and it looked better on me anyway, and my Nike sneakers. I was always in sneakers. I wore my long hair down because it was warmer on my ears that way. Besides, I liked my new ultra blonde highlights and I was proud to have such great hair at my age.

I dressed Davis in a brown corduroy jacket that had big buttons down the front and a little leather collar, along with some new jeans that I had picked up for him and a pair of light brown leather boots that Mikey had bought for him at 'Aldo'. He was definitely the best dressed six month old I'd ever seen.

After Bos got out of the shower the three of us got into our Mustang and drove to the market. It was so cute to see Bosco wheeling around the grocery cart with Davis sitting in the baby seat that was built in, talking to him and cooing. I swear, every woman who passed him stopped and smiled, tilting their heads as they watched the tender display of affection. He was still as attractive as he'd ever been, and for being a few years shy of sixty, he was still a sight to behold. He smiled back at those woman and kept going down the isles. Even a few thirty-ish woman stopped him and asked him what the baby's name was and so forth. He would look back at me and wink as he talked. Mostly, when I'd walk back to the cart the woman would flash a quick smile and excuse themselves. I didn't mind. Hey, he went home with me.

We took most of the afternoon to finish our shopping and managed to get a bite from Zaxby's in between. I found an adorable doll that came with her own make up and accessories for Little Faith and a fantastic block set for Davis that was see through with apples and bananas and cookies inside. Funny how far kids toys had come from when I was a child. All my brother Stanley and I had to play with were those crappy wooden blocks and some old cardboard boxes...oh, what fun. We had no money and hardly anything. No wonder my mother was such a crab. I also found some things for Mikey and Emma.

The only thing about the entire shopping trip that made me sad was knowing that Brett and Carly wouldn't be home for Christmas, or even if we'd ever see them again. It would be the first Christmas in years that our family wasn't together. Except for the Christmas that Brett and Carly had been away, and still, they had found time to come and see us for a few days before the new semester began. This was the first time that things were so rotten for us, so different. And the clincher was that this would be our first Christmas without Sasha and Ty. No more morning breakfasts and all-day get together's for us. I swallowed the huge lump in my throat that threatened to make me cry. No more crying for me, at least for I while, I pledged to myself.

"So, have you thought about what else we are gonna get for Davis this Christmas?" Bosco asked me as we were driving home. He reached over and took my hand into his and gave me a charming smile.

"Maybe some new clothes and a lot of diapers." I laughed, happy to see him happy for a change. "Or maybe one of those little sheep skin coats, like the one Mikey has— we could get one that matches."

"Ya. That would be cute. But I was thinking about something like a new furniture set for his bedroom for when he gets older. He can take over Brett's old room and I was thinkin that we could set it up like a boat theme." He said, looking to see if I agreed. "I'm gonna build him a boat bed. One that is shaped like a ship and has port holes on the sides and he can go underneath it from this little hatch at the bottom—it's gonna be great!" He said excitedly. "I saw it in this magazine yesterday and it got me to thinkin–"

Inwardly, I winced. I knew that by the time Davis was old enough to sleep in a big bed that he and his father would most likely be out on their own. We, of course, would have had no problem with them living with us forever, but I knew that it wasn't realistic of us to think that way.

"Babe–you do realize that Mikey will probably want to move out on his own, don't you?" I interrupted.

He scoffed and looked over at me as if I were deranged. "Why? Why would he? He's got us to help him. He doesn't pay any rent. He doesn't buy food and he's got two babysitters on-call every day of the week. Why would he ever want to move out?"

I chuckled. "Would you really want to have lived with Rose for the rest of your life? Once you had kids?"

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, why not? She coulda babysat for me, with her bein drunk all the time. It would have been just like it was when I was a kid." He shook his head. "It's not the same thing. We're a hullova lot better parents than ours were."

"That's for sure. Than again, it's not that hard to better than they were."

"Ya. I guess you're right."

We both got lost in our own thoughts then. As we drove along I knew that I was right but I also knew that Bosco's dream of keeping our children with us was a good one, and one that kept him happy and sane.

As we pulled into our driveway, we saw a blue car in our driveway that I didn't recognize. I looked over at Bosco to see if he recognized it but he just shrugged his shoulders. As drove up behind it, a woman looked back in her rearview mirror and then opened her door and got out and turned around.

It was Kath! She looked wonderful. Her hair looked rich and shiny and had grown halfway down her back. She also looked pretty skinny. She wore a pair of black dress pants and a black sweater. She beamed a huge smile at us and waved. Bosco and myself both raised our hands and waved weakly.

"Smile." I said, between my clenched teeth.

"Oh my—" Bosco said, his mouth hanging open. "What is _she_ doing here?" He asked, giving a huge smile out the window, which she had to know was fake. It looked like a hundred watts. I smacked him in the stomach.

"Oooff." He grunted, still smiling stupidly. "What was _that_ for?"

"I called her this morning to see if I could see the baby." I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and grabbing the handle of the door. "Be nice. You're going to meet your third grandchild."

"Okayyyyyyy. Ya didn't have to hit me ya know." He lectured me.

"Oh suck it up you big baby." I said as I opened the door and stepped outside.

"Faith!" Kath called walking over to me. "It's so good to see you. I was so happy that you called!"

"Hi, I'm glad you came. It's been so long, Kath. It's good to see you." I said and embraced her. She looked back toward Bosco and gave him another wave. He waved back and opened his door and called out to her.

"Hey Kath–be with you in a second." He called to her as he got out and went into the back seat to get the baby.

"It's okay. I'm in no hurry." She answered him and then turned back to me. "I have to admit that I was nervous about seeing you again but after you called I knew that I needed to come and see you." She said, smiling sweetly. She reached out and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear and shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. "I've missed you, Faith. All of you."

I bowed my head and took a deep breath. "I know. I'm sorry for not doing more for you. I wasn't a good friend and I'm very sorry for the way I handled things–– for the way that Michael handled things. After he signed off his rights to the baby, I just figured that if you wanted to contact us that you would." I said softly, knowing that it wasn't an excuse. "And then the whole Brett and Carly thing happened and the family was torn apart and then the baby—" I stopped abruptly, thinking that maybe she didn't want to hear all of my problems.

"It's okay. I knew about the baby—with Carly, I mean. She called me and told me." She said ruefully, obviously still hurting over the situation. "She told me that Mike had gotten her pregnant. She didn't know that we had broken up or anything. I guess she just wanted to warn me or something."

"Or make you feel bad." I said hotly, not disguising my contempt for her. "She had a boy. His name is Davis and he lives here with us and —". I stopped again, not wanting to tell her that Mikey had moved home with us to be a father to the son he had made with Carly, when he had given up another.

"It's okay, Faith. I'm trying to get over it, but it's hard, ya know. I'm on maternity leave right now but I have to go back in a couple of months and it's hard to think about leaving the—" She stopped in mid sentence and then continued. "I don't expect you to _not_ say something because of Mike. I love your son and I probably always will. I have a part of him with me, always and even though it hurts like hell, I don't want you to try and watch what you say. I know he lives here with you and Maurice and I know that he's a great dad to that baby."

I opened my eyes in shock. "What? You know? How?"

She laughed. "I still have friends at the fifty-fifth. They told me how good he was doin. It hurt at first but then I realized that it's good for him. I always knew that he had a thing for Carly Davis, I just didn't know how much. He's really settling down, huh?"

"Yes. He is and we're really proud of him." I said. "But we wish that things had been different with the two of you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him, Kath. I wish that you two could have been together and raised your kids and all. I wish that he'd of never left you."

"Ya—me too." She said.

"But–" I said, giving her a big smile. "at least you seem to have moved on and found someone new."

"I–uh–new?" She said, not understanding.

Before I could question her on it again Bosco walked over to us carrying Davis. "Hey, it's good to see you!"

She leaned in and gave him an awkward hug and then peered down at the baby. "He's beautiful—just georgous. You must be in love all over again."

"Ya. We sure are." Bosco agreed. "Well? When are we gonna get to meet–" He stopped in mid sentence, not knowing what she had named the baby. "The—little guy?"

"Well, about that—"Kath started, but I interrupted.

"Why don't we all go in the house and have some tea?" I suggested, feeling a bit chilly. I knew that Mikey had a pool tournament after work that would go well into the evening, so we didn't have to chance them running into one another.

"Ya. I'm goin in now and I'll start a pot." Bosco offered as he started toward the front door.

"Can you help me, Faith?" Kath answered as we walked over to the car. She pointed over to the right side of the car and she opened the back door on the left.

"Sure." I answered, following along behind her. The windows of her car were tinted a nice black color and it was hard to see inside, but when I opened the right side passengers door to retrieve the diaper bag for Kath, I got the shock of my life.

"I wanted to tell you—"Kath started, as she saw the confusion written on my face. The only thing I could think of was the message on the answering machine.

"_You've reached Kath, Aidan and Owen..." _

I laughed out loud as I stared down, delighted and shocked by what I saw. There wasn't one baby seat back there. There was two.


	32. My Father's Eyes

**My Fathers Eyes**

I wish that I had a camera to take a picture of Bosco's face as Kath and I came into the house with not one but _two_ baby seats. Twins! They were so perfect and beautiful and, now, that boosted our total number of grandchildren to four.

While we were getting the children out of the car I could only grin a mile wide. Two babies! Two perfect, wonderful little boys who were in their sixth month with curly blond hair, which I knew came from my side of the family. They were both dressed in identical pairs of jeans and blue and white sweaters with tiny pairs of blue Nike sneakers. Both had the bluest of eyes and small dimples on each of their plump cheeks. In those eyes I could see their half brother, our little Davis.

"How?" Was the only word I could muster as I unbuckled one baby from the belt and took a hold of the handle of his carrier. "I mean, I know _how_, but—two of them! How wonderful!"

"I didn't even know I was having twins until the last part of my eighth month." Kath explained, looking somewhat relieved that I was so happy to see my grandchildren. "One was hiding behind the other and the doctor didn't detect the heartbeat until then." She said as she grabbed a hold of the other twin's seat and pulled him out of the car.

"It must be so hard for you to do this by yourself." I commented as we made our way up to the door.

"Ya. It is at times but they are just the best thing that ever happened to me, Faith. I couldn't imagine life without them." She answered.

I opened the front door and set the baby down and held it open for her to pass through. She had a huge blue and red diaper bag slung across her shoulder that looked as though it weighed twenty pounds. But she did have two babies to care for and that took a lot of stuff.

"What do you think Maurice will say when he sees them?" Kath asked in a whisper as we started down the hall.

I turned around and grinned at her and put my finger over my mouth to indicate that we'd just see and not say a word until we had presented the two of them. _The two of them!_

When we got to the kitchen Bosco was standing back to, putting the kettle on the stove. Davis was sitting in his baby swing that Mikey had brought home for him less than a week previous, asleep with his thumb stuck in his mouth. His head was tilted forward as he slept. We set both of the babies down and looked at each other conspiratorially.

"Hey honey, turn around and take a look at this." I said happily, as Kath took a seat at the island.

"Just a sec." He said as he reached over and turned the burner of the stove on. "I just gotta finish this and we're all set. You want coffee or tea, Kath?" He asked

"Coffee would be great." She answered with a little giggle.

"Bos–you gotta see this." I said.

He turned around and the look of shock on his face was absolutely priceless. His mouth dropped open and he blinked rapidly, looking from one boy to the other. "Wha–what is this?" Was all he could manage to say. He wiped his hand on his t-shirt and walked toward us, a look of incredulity and awe on his handsome face.

"Well, I had twins." Kath said brightly looking over at me and smiling. "I didn't find out until about two weeks before they were born. That's Aidan on the right and the other little fella is Owen" She said proudly.

"I can't believe it!" He said, laughing, really delighted. "Faith! Did you see them? Twins!" He gushed, as he walked over and crouched down to get a good look. They were both awake and looking around the room. "Can I hold one?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Sure." Kath beamed, so happy that we had taken her news so well. She bent down and took Aidan from the carrier and held him up for his grandfather to take. Then she unbuckled Owen and handed him to me.

"Hello, baby boy." I murmured into his blond curls. I kissed his sweet cheek. He smelled so good, like baby powder and shampoo and he felt so good in my arms. I glanced over at his half brother, noting that the three of these children had exactly the same eye color. They all had their fathers eyes.

Oh, I was so happy that day. So happy to be holding my beautiful grandson, who by rights, I should have never been allowed to see. Both Bosco and I had handled the situation with Kath terribly and we didn't deserve to see her children even though they were a part of us. I raised my head and looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes and thanked God for giving us this blessing. I made up my mind right there and then to let Kath know that we would always be here for her and the twins no matter what.

All those months she was alone with no one to depend on. She must have been so sad, so terribly afraid of what was to come and knowing that Mike had got another woman pregnant and was being the father that he should have been to her children must have been a terrible blow to her. And the day that she had come to me for help, the day that she met Carmelle, must have been the worst part of all. I had betrayed Kath with Carmelle and I knew it. And she was still alone. And yet, she was here, giving us the gift that we didn't deserve.

She was raising our grandchildren on her own and goodness knows that was a tough job. And even though Mikey had signed away his rights to what he thought was one baby, it was still our responsibility to have these boys in our lives and for them to be a part of our family.

Despite my feelings of happiness I was starting to feel awfully guilty about how we had let Kath and the boys down. As I watched my husband cradle Aidan, I felt the burn of tears start behind my eyes. We were so horrible to do this to her for so long. We didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve it.

"Wow. He's so beautiful." Bosco said, bending down to give him a kiss on his head. "They both are."

"Thanks."

"So what are their middle names?" I asked curiously.

"Well, this little guy–" Kath said pointing to Bosco. "Is Aidan Michael and the other" She pointed at me " is Owen Maurice."

"What? You're serious?" Bosco almost shouted, grinning from ear to ear. "That was so amazing of you, Kath."

I suddenly felt like crying. Despite our negligence toward her, she had still named her children after their paternal side of the family. "That was wonderful of you." I said.

"And they are both Boscorelli's." Kath replied and then looked away for a second. "I figure that they look more like Mike did when he was a baby. They don't look anything like me and I just figured that they should have their daddy's name even though he isn't around. " She said, looking over at me.

I glanced over at Bosco, who looked like he was about to cry, from either happiness or guilt. He looked away and down at the floor, very effected by what Kath had said. Guilt won out over me.

"Oh, Kath." Was all I could say, as the lump in my throat took over and made it hard for me to speak. My eyes welled up and spilled over. Bosco looked over at me, surprised, and started to walk over to me, but I backed up. I had something to say. I handed Owen to her and held up my hand until I could collect my thoughts.

"Faith—what's wrong?" She asked. "I'm sorry– I shouldn't have mentioned that. It was stupid. I'm sorry." She said, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes, as she held her son and looked over at Bosco for help.

"Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for." I said brokenly. I shook my head and looked down, ashamed.

"Faith? What's wrong?" Bosco asked gently.

"We don't deserve this. We don't have the right to see your children, Kath. We were horrible to you when you needed us the most—". I had to stop for a second. Kath looked at me, her own tears threatening to break loose.

"Faith–wait—". She said, in a tight voice.

"No—You need to hear this. We need—no,_ I _need to apologize to you for so many things and there is nothing that I can do or say to you that will even compensate for how badly we abandoned you and the boys." I said through my tears.

Bosco walked over and brought me a kleenex and handed it to me. On second thought, he brought back the entire box and handed it over, after taking one for Kath and handing it to her. She took it and dabbed her eyes with it and then sat back down on the stool and looked at me. I think she knew that I needed to do this. I needed to make it right. Bosco took Aidan and sat down at the table, ready to listen. I think he knew that we needed to make amends with Kath. He understood that I could not act like nothing had ever happened.

I wiped my eyes before continuing. "Kath, that day that you came to see us, I had so many other things on my mind. I know now that I betrayed you by letting Carmelle into this house and I can only ask for your forgiveness. I hurt you and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for a lot of things. But most of all, I'm sorry that for the last year I havn't been there for you. I should have been there. I should have made it clear that you were still a part of this family, even if you and Michael aren't together. And if it's not too late, I'd like to extend that invitation now."

I had to stop once again and blow my nose. I was shaking all over and I felt like I was about to throw up, but I also felt like a huge weight had been taken off of me, for finally apologizing to her. It was the right thing to do and you can never go wrong by doing the right thing. I looked up at her, only to see her starting to cry herself. She leaned down and set Owen back in his seat, only to have him let out a cry of protest.

"Give him to me. I'll hold him." Bosco offered. Kath picked Owen back up and handed him to Bosco, who cradled one in his left arm and the other in his right. At once, both boys reached out to each other and their tiny arms flapped back and forth as they talked baby talk.

Kath turned back to me, her green eyes now spilling over, her whole face taught with emotion.

"Faith—"

I held up my hand. "Just one more thing." I said and swallowed again. "I'm going to say something that I should have said to you a long time ago." I bit down on my lower lip, as more tears came down my face. I took a deep breath and tried to talk in my normal voice and failed completely. "I love you—and _whenever _you need us, _if_ you need us, we'll always be here. And love those little boys even though I just met them. Please forgive me for what I have done to you. I promise that from this moment forward, if you need me, if you'll still have me, I want you to know that I will always consider you my daughter-in-law—if you want—." I couldn't finish my sentence and just held my arms open to her.

She came into my embrace and bowed her head to my shoulder and bawled right along with me. She clung to me tightly and I to her. I felt cleansed and whole again and a sense of renewal that I had so desperately needed. "I love you too." She cried and sniffed. "And I would love to still be a part of your family. I missed you so much these past months. It was so hard for me not to call you but I thought that since Mike didn't want to see me that you wouldn't either."

"Oh, Kath...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I blatted, hugging her tighter. "We just completely faded out of your life and after Sasha died, and Carly and Brett's stuff, we just didn't have anything left for anyone else."

"I understand. I do." She said.

"Uh oh." Came Bosco's voice from behind us. "You two better stop all your cryin and git over here and do somethin about this."

The two of us let go and turned around and doubled over. Bosco sat shaking his head at us with a look of mock annoyance. "Are ya's just gonna stand there or are ya gonna rescue me?"

Both Kath and I threw back our heads and laughed. "You have a camera?" I asked Kath between giggles.

"I sure do." She replied, bending down to retrieve it from her baby bag.

"Now wait a minute!" Bosco protested from his seat. "You cannot take a picture of this!"

"Do it, Kath!" I urged.

"Say cheese!" Kath ordered Bosco as she snapped a few pictures. "Oh this is going in the family album for sure!" She said playfully.

"A little help please!" Bosco demanded, good naturedly.

It was priceless. Bosco sitting on the kitchen chair covered in mass amounts of baby vomit that went from his chest to his lap. Both boys had decided to give him a little 'gift'.

"You know what that's called, don't you?" I asked as I went to get a cloth.

"No, and what would that be?"

"A Boscorelli tag-team!"


	33. Mikey's Heart

Author's Note: Well, this is the last chapter of this story for at least two weeks. I am on my way to Boston and then to New York City for vacation. Never been there before, and I am so excited I might just faint. Hoping I might run into some of our Third Watch friends, but I am almost sure that I am not that lucky. So, my friends, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll have more soon.

**Mikey's Heart**

That night when Mikey got home from his pool tournament he found Bosco and I in the livingroom at the computer transferring the pictures we had taken of Kath and the twins from our digital camera to our computer's family album. Davis was snugly in bed and we had the baby monitor plugged into the wall beside us in case he woke up. We sat side by side at the large oak desk that had come from the Boscorelli family generations back, and looked in awe and pride at our latest additions. The boys were truly wonderful.

We were so blessed to have Kath's forgiveness and her friendship. We had taken pictures of Davis and the twins sitting side by side on the couch. Since they were all six months old we could leave them sitting up by themselves for a short period of time. How sweet they were sitting there, our three angels; three brothers from different circumstances. It was hard to believe that our oldest son was only twenty six years old and he had three children.

What could have been an very uncomfortable day had turned out to be a renewal between Kath and us; a new beginning for our family. I didn't know how Mikey would feel about Bosco and I having a relationship with his twins or with Kath, but it didn't matter. We were going to see them whether or not he liked it. Kath had held Davis in her arms and hugged and kissed him. She thought he was one of the most beautiful babies she had ever seen.

At first I thought that it would be very difficult for her to see Davis, but I was wrong. She took to him, and he to her, as if they had always known one another. I watched her, as Bosco and I took our positions on the sectional couch with one twin in each of our laps, sitting in our rocking chair, singing a lullaby to him, her cheek pressed against his head, and wished that she and Mikey would have been able to work things out, for she would have been good to our Davis, and he needed a mother so badly. I sighed and leaned my head against Bosco's shoulder and he reached over and gave my hand a squeeze, I'm sure, wishing the same thing.

It had been Bosco's idea to get as many pictures as we could on our digital camera and then put them on the computer. That way we would always have them and we could send some to whom ever we wished. I thought that we should maybe print some off for Arthur so he could see them too, but I didn't bother asking Bosco just then. I would wait until the time was right and things were settled down a bit. The only thing I was worried about was what Mikey's reaction would be to Kath's visit.

Bosco and I had discussed what we would say to him when he saw the pictures, and how we would tell him that he not only had one other child, but two. The pictures would speak for themselves, we decided.

"What are we going to tell him?" I asked, as we had sat down to supper.

Bosco shrugged, as was his way for almost everything. "I dunno, Faith. What _can _we say?" He shook too much salt on his deep fried french fries as he spoke. "We can only tell him the truth. It's less complicated."

"Don't put so much salt on that. You know what Dr. Newman told you." I henpecked.

"I don't care." He admonished, shaking even more on the already saturated fries. "I'm only gonna live once and I happen to like salt."

"You won't live long if you keep this up. You can't eat like this at your age—" I continued, trying to grab it from him.

"_Woman_—" He warned me, annoyed. "Keep your hands to yourself."

I reached over and grabbed the salt from his hand and earned myself a withering glare. "Bos, don't you think he's going to be shocked when he finds out? I mean, what would you say?" I countered, lightly lacing my fries with the salt and setting it out of his reach.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at me. "I _think _I know how much salt to put on my own food, thanks." He said, grabbing for the pepper instead, as if that would add the much desired taste and shook it violently all over his food. "and, I think that he will handle it as well as to be expected. But to tell you the truth it doesn't matter what he thinks. He gave up his rights to see his off-spring with her."

By the time we were finished our supper, we decided that we would do up the pictures right around the time that Mikey would come home so that he would just come in and see us and notice the pictures on the screen and ask us about them. It was the easiest way to bring up the conversation.

And so, when our eldest son came strolling through the door and into the livingroom to see what we were up to, I felt so nervous, I could hardly keep myself in the chair.

"Hey, what's goin on?" He asked as he flopped down on the rocking chair and closed his eyes. He had been drinking and I could smell the stale smell of cigarettes as well as the alcohol. I didn't mind, though, because it was only once a week that he got to go out and do anything social. He never had too much, just enough to get a buzz on and one of his fellow officers would always drive him home and then pick him up for work again the next day.

I looked over at him and smiled nervously while biting down on my lower lip. He looked relaxed and happy. His posture wasn't tight and his boyish face was turned into a small smile as he rested his head on the back of the rocker.

"Hey Mike, how'd you guys do tonight?" Bosco asked without turning around. "Didja beet those jag-offs from the fifty-fourth?"

"Hell ya! Beat 'em every game accept for one. That puts us into the finals next month." He said happily. "So, how's my boy doin tonight? Is he sleepin?" He asked, opening his blue eyes and fixing them on me intently.

"Oh, he's been down for a while. He had a big day today." I revealed and then cleared my throat, trying to get Bosco to speak first. He didn't even notice what we were doing on the computer.

"Oh, ya? What didja's do today?" He asked, while yawning and stretching his long legs out in front of him. He wore a blue t-shirt that brought out the color of his brilliantly colored eyes and a pair of jeans and his black Doc Martin boots. He wore his NYPD ball cap on his head. He looked good, but not like he was trying too hard.

"Well, we had a visitor." Bosco said slowly, turning around to look at our son. "Actually, we had three visitors."

"Oh, who?" He asked, his interest minimal, closing his eyes again and scrubbing his face with his palms.

Bosco pushed back the computer chair and turned it around to face Mikey. "Well—It was Kath."

He dropped his hands from his face and his eyes opened immediately. We had his attention.

"What?" Mikey blinked a couple of times and stared back, his face blank, showing no emotion, but he did cross his arms over his sculpted chest. " She came _here_? To see you? Why? And who else?" He asked, in a slightly husky voice, and then cleared his throat. "Did she have the baby with her?" He asked, looking down at the floor, his ball cap hiding his eyes.

"Was it a boy?" He asked as an after-thought. "She wanted a boy." He murmured.

"Yes, she did. But there's something else that we have to tell you. Something that you don't know and we didn't know until today. It's big." He said. "Really big."

Mikey sat up straighter in the chair and looked at us. "What? Did she get married or something? She met some other guy? She brought another guy to our house?" He questioned, in a hard tone. "Is that the third person?"

If I hadn't known about his confession of being in love with Carly, I would have sworn that he was jealous. I shifted my chair around to face him and blocked the screen so he wouldn't see it yet. "Honey, it wasn't another guy." I said softly, brushing my hair behind my ears. "Don't worry."

He scoffed. "I _wasn't_ worried." He said sharply. " I don't care even if it was. She's not my girl anymore. She didn't even want me to see the kid. Demanded that I give up my rights just because I said that it would be better for her to have an abortion. We were both too young to have a kid then. Why are you telling me all of this? I don't want to know what she's doin." He said angrily.

Oh, how his emotions could change in the blink of an eye. He was so much like his father it was uncanny. Bosco would have reacted the same way. He would have pretended that he didn't give a damn, but it was clear to me at that moment that my son wouldn't have been upset if he didn't care.

"Michael, you had a child with Carly at the same time. You weren't too young for that." I reminded him.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Mom! I know that—but things changed when I actually saw him. Kath's baby was just an—" He searched for the right word. "Just a thought. It wasn't a reality. And what does it matter now? I don't have any claim for him anyway—so why are you bringing up something that I can't control? I don't want to know about him." He said sternly, his face starting to get tight and a bit red. He flexed the muscles in his jaw as he clamped down hard on his teeth and gritted them.

I was shocked, to say the least. I hadn't known that he had even given Kath a second thought or the baby for that matter. But what I should have realized was that my son was so much like his father; and that he kept most of his thoughts to himself. The ones that really mattered belonged to him and he didn't share them.

"Why not? He's your son, Michael."

He jumped up from the rocker and held out his arms toward me, his eyes watery and shining. "Don't you think I know that? Do you honestly think that I just forgot about her? Every time I look at Davis I am reminded that I have another son out there that I'll _never _see. That I can't even inquire about because I hurt his mother so much. Do you really think I'm _that_ big of an asshole?"

"No! Don't say that!" I said, sorry for making him upset. "We don't think that. I just want you to know him and see what he looks like. Kath came here to see us. She doesn't hold anything against you. We took pictures and she saw Davis and she thought he was beautiful—" I rambled on, wanting him to know the whole truth.

"Faith, just wait a second!" Bosco interrupted, putting his hand on my leg. "He doesn't even know the whole story yet."

"What?" Mikey huffed, exasperated. He sat down again on the rocker and rested his elbows on his knees. "What else is there?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, son." Bosco said gently. "But Kath had twins. You have_ two _more sons, not one."

I don't know how to describe the look of shock and confusion that was written across my second son's face at that moment. He looked from one of us to the other with a kind of incredulous look of 'you must be crazy'. "What? Twins? Are you shitting me?" He asked in a very unsteady voice.

I broke out into a wide grin and put my hand over my chest. "Yes! And they are _beautiful_, Mikey! Just _beautiful_!"

"Mike, we took all kinds of pictures of them for you. Actually, we took tons of picture of the three of them." Bosco said, turning around and gesturing for Mikey to come and look. He waited a second and then turned back around when he didn't move. "Michael? Come see." He said again, looking over at me with a questioning look.

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" I asked. "You have to see them—she named them after you and your father! Aidan Michael and Owen Maurice". I said, loudly.

"I can't look at them."

"Why not? They're beautiful!"

"You said. I _heard _you." He said dryly, as he buried his face in his hands.

"But—don't you want to see what they look like?" I asked, shocked and starting to get a little bit angry. This was the old Mikey. The one who didn't give a damn; the one who just wanted to forget about these children because he was too selfish. I should have known that this change of heart wasn't totally for real. Yes, he was being a great father to Davis, but he needed to be a father to the twins too. Even though he had signed away his rights, he still could see them. Kath had said so. What was wrong with him?

He took his hands away from his face and gave Bosco and I a nasty stare. He shook his head and bit down on his lower lip and snarled at us. " You just can't leave it alone can you?"

"What? She came to see us." Bosco said, his temper starting to show.

"I gave up my rights to them, don't you _get_ that? I _can't_ see them. I can't have a relationship with them! So why are you trying to get me to look at two kids that I can't even call my own? Are you trying to make me feel bad for what I did?" He accused us brokenly. He stood up and pointed at us.

"Trust me—You can't make me feel any worse than I already do!" He yelled, and poked his chest with his forefinger.

"We're not trying to make you feel bad!" Bosco yelled, standing up and facing him. "We just want you to see your children! Is that so bad? Kath came here and she told us that she wanted things to be different, that she wished that you two had worked it out!" He yelled, desperately, searching our son's face to make him understand.

He reached out and clamped his hands over both of Mikey's arms and held him tight, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Son, she still loves you and she wants you to see your sons. Do the right thing, cause this kind of chance only happens once in a lifetime. You have a set of beautiful twins, named Aidan and Owen Boscorelli. That's right; she gave them your last name because she wanted them to have the family name. Michael, before it's too late, just look over at the computer screen and see your children." He implored, letting go of his arms. "Do it for Davis; do it for yourself, but most of all do it for those two little boys who don't have a father right now."

"Please, Michael." I begged, the tears now starting down my face. I held out my hand to him and he walked over and took it and sat down at the desk and started to click through all of the pictures. Bosco walked over behind him and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him, letting him know that we were still behind him one hundred and fifty percent.

I learned an important lesson in life that day; No matter what had happened in the past, no matter what was to come in the future; we always had to stick together and love each other to the best of our ability. Because all that really mattered was family.

TBC


End file.
